Skip to main content

Full text of "The craftsman"

See other formats






OCTOBER 1904— MARCH 1905 


I > 




Copyright i904-'o5 

by GusTAv Sticklev 

Syracuse, N. Y. 





OCTOBER 1904— MARCH 1905 

Bird. See Humming 


Anna Humming 

Architecture of Christian Science Churches, 
East and West 

Art, A Democratic, A Plea for 

Art in the Home and in the School 

Artist and Craftsman, The New Relation- 
ship Between 

Arts and Crafts, The, A Diagnosis 

Art, The Potter's, in Korea 

Barn, The Building of the 

Basketry, Indian, Its Structure and Deco- 

Beauty, The, of Ugliness. See Ugliness 

Beauty, The Cheapness of 

Bellows, Picturesque 

Book Reviews 

Border, The, Analyzed as a Decorative 

Bungalow. See House, Craftsman 

Cabinet Work, Home Training in 

Ceramics, The Future of, in America 

Children, A Successful Photographer 
See Photographer 


City, The Garden 

Coniments upon Mr. Shean's "Mural Paint- 
ing from an American Point of V^iew" 

Consumer, Duties of the 

Cottage Homes, Two 

Crafts, Colonial. See Museum, A Colo- 
nial Crafts 

Craftsman, Artist and. See Artist and 

Crafts, The Arts and. See Arts and Crafts 

Doll, Dominion of the 

Door, The Open 


John Howard Jewett 

Gustav Stickley 
Irene Sargent 

J. Taylor 

Dr. Denman W. Ross 
Randolph I. Geare 
Ernest Crosby 



263, 400 




Irene Sargent 
Ernest Crosby 

98, 229, 362, 490, 613, 751 
(Translated by Irene Sargent) 421 


Gustav Stickley 
Charles F. Binns 


96, 225, 355, 487, 610, 748 
Georges Benoit-Levy (translated 

by Irene Sargent) 284 

Irene Sargent 
Rho Fisk Zueblin 



Charles Quincy Turner 591 

232, 379, 496, 626, 753 




CONTENTS— Contimied 

Flower Memorial Library. See Librarj' 
Fountain, A (designed by Jerome Connor) 
Fountain, A Garden 
Golden-Rule Jones. See Jones 
Gorham Silverware. See Silverware 
Greek Encaustic Portraits, Ancient. 

Handicrafts, Artistic, for Women. 

Home Department, Our 
Home Training in Cabinet Work. 

Cabinet Work 
House, A Craftsman. Series of 1904 




Following pages 504, 634, 764 

394. Series of 1905 
See Cottage 

House Beautiful, The Modern 

Houses, Two California 

Humming Bird, The Anna, A Midwinter 
Fairy in Feathers 

Huntington, The Right Reverend Freder- 
ick Dan 

Indian Basketry. See Basketry 

Indian Types, A Noted Painter of 

Jones, Golden-Rule, Late Mayor of To- 
ledo, Ohio 

Keith, William 

Korea, The Potter's Art in. See Art, Pot- 

Lecture, M. Wagner's. See Wagner's 

Library, The Flower Memorial 

Library, The Public, Development of 

Magazines, Memorable in the 

Morris, William, the Man 

Muir, John, Geologist, Explorer, Natural- 

Municipal Sculpture. See Sculpture 

Mural Painting from an American Point 
of View 

Mural Painting from an American Point 
of View, Comments Upon. See com- 

Mural Paintings, Robert Reid's, in the 
Massachusetts State House 

Museum, A Colonial Crafts 

Music, American Folk, A Bit of 

X., 76; No. XL, 208; No. XII., 
No. I., 476; No. II., 603; No. III., Bungalow, 735. 

Antoinette Rehmann 


Elizabeth Grinnell 


G. W. J. 


Ernest Crosby 

George Wharton James 



Frederick S. Lamb 379 


366, 492, 621, 751 

George Wharton James 412 


Charles M. Shean 

Irene Sargent 
Frederick W. Coburn 
Natalie Curtis 




CONTENTS— Continued 


Organ, the, The Evolution of 

Ornament, Its Use and Its Abuse 

Painter of Indian Types. See Indian 

Painting, Mural. See Mural Painting 

Pewter Craft 

Pewter Plate, Old 

Photographer of Children. A Successful 

Portraits, Encaustic, Ancient Greek 

Potter's Art in Korea. See Art. Potter's 

Precious Things 

Sculpture, A Second Lesson of 

Sculpture, Municipal, from the Aemrican 
Point of View 

Sculpture, The Lesson of 

Sheep, The, and the Goats 

Silverware, Gorham, Some Recent Exam- 
ples of 

Suggestion, A, with an Invitation 

Thoughts Occasioned by an Anniversary. 
See Art, a Democratic, a Plea for 

Tiffany & Company at the St. Louis Expo- 

Ugliness, The Beaut>- of 

Ugliness, From, to Beauty 

Wagner, M. Charles, as a Working Force 
in ''Young France" 

Wagner, M. Charles, Two Days With 

Wagner's Lecture, My Books and My 
Occasions for Writing Them 

Women, Artistic Handicrafts for 


97, 227, 356, 488, 611, 749 
Randolph I. Geare 548 

Gustav Stickley 580 

Randolph I Geare 
Mary L. Riley 

Randolph I. Geare 

Irene Sargent 



Frederick Wellington Ruckstuhl 239 
Barr Ferree 117 

Ernest Crosby 282 







Dr. Heinrich Pudor (translated 

by Irene Sargent) 196 

Ernest Crosby 
Gustav Stickley 

George Wharton James 


Architecture of Christian Science Churches- 
churches at Boston, 693; New York, 694; 
Denver, 695; Kansas City, 696; Cleveland, 
697 ; Chicago, 698 
Art, a Democratic, a Plea for — fireplace, fac- 
ing 45 ; basin, with mural decorations, 49 ; 
cabinet-making, 50, 51; desk, 52; wainscot- 
ing, facing 56; workroom, 61; dining-room 
62; wall space above wainscoting, 63; fire- 
place, 64; bedroom, facing 68 
Art in the Home and in the School — the storj- 
of a mouthful of bread, 274; how the tree 
became a table, 275 ; cups and candlesticks 
come from clay, 275; Ole Luk-Oie, 276; 
the swanboat, 277 ; the mouse-wedding, 278 ; 
the umbrella, 279 ; the bells, 401 ; the ships, 
403 ; the soldiers, 406 ; the sheep, 409 ; the 
musicians, 411; frieze 'June Roses,' 519; 
frieze 'Autumn Fruits,' 521; the woods in 
winter, 523 ; spring, 525 ; spring and sum- 
mer; autumn, 527; winter, 529; walls 
decorated with adaptations from Botticelli, 
669 ; Lucca Delia Robbia, 671 ; Fra Angel- 
ico, 673; Benozzo Gozzoli, 675; Pinturic- 
chio, 677 
Art, the Potter's, in Korea — specimens of 

Korean pottery, 295 ; Seoul, 296 
Basketry, Indian, Its Structure and Decora- 
tion — vase form basket, 323 ; examples of 
form and design, 324, 325, 326, 327, 328 ; 
space decoration, 331; a barbarian woman 
as an expert designer of textiles, 333 
Bellows, Picturesque — examples, 222, 223 
Border, the, analyzed as a Decorative Agent 
— examples of decorative borders, 421 et 
Cabinet-Work, Home Training in — the work- 
shop, 719; the tool cabinet, 722; the work- 
bench, 722; a bird house, 723; design for 
bird house, 724; dog house, 725; design for 
dog house, 726; child's chair, 727; design 
for child's chair, 728 ; child's arm chair, 
729; design, 730; medicine cabinet, 731; 
design, 732; wall cabinet, 733; design, 734 
City, the Garden — cottage at Bournville, 285; 
chapel at Port Sunlight, 286; the three 
magnets, 287 

Cottage Homes, Two — exteriors, interiors, and 
plans, 743-744 

Doll, the Dominion of the — dolls from East- 
ern Siberia, 595; Indian dolls, 596, 597; 
Peruvian, 598, 599; Indian dolls, 600 

Fountain, a, designed by Jerome Connor — 
Mr. Connor at work in his studio, 469 ; 
group of Indian figures, 470; the fountain, 
and proposed rustic base, 471 ; fountain at 
Antwerp, 472 

Fountain, a Garden — gateway to the Brad- 
street craftshouse, 71 ; house and fountain, 
72 ; fountain, 73 
Home Department, Our — tables, scarfs, pil- 
lows, and table squares, following 504; 
table squares, and screens, following 634; 
center pieces, tea-cloths, and doylies, fol- 
lowing 764 
House, a Craftsman — No. X., front, 76 ; ex- 
terior, face 77; side, 77; basement plan, 
78; hall, 79; dining room, 80; workroom, 
8i; billiard room, 82; first floor plan, 84; 
living room, face 85 ; plan of second floor, 
85; third floor plan, 87; No. XI. — front ele- 
vation, 209; side, 211; exterior, 213; living 
room, 214; entrance, 215; window seat, 215; 
dining room, 216; study, 216; plan of first 
floor, 217; plan of second floor, 219; No. 
XII. — exterior, 345; rear, 246; living room, 
247; hall, 248; plan of first floor and gar- 
den, 349; plan of first floor, 351; plan of 
second floor, 353. Series of 1905, No. I. — 
exterior, 477 ; views of the living room, 
478 ; dining room and reception room, 479 ; 
hall, 480; floor plans, 481; elevation, 483; 
No. II. — exterior, 605 ; interiors, 606 ; floor 
plans, 607; front elevation, 608; side, 609; 
No. III. — exterior views, 737; living room, 
738; elevations, 740; floor plan, 740; side 
elevations, 741 
Houses, Two California — exterior, 441; house 
at Montecito, 442; alternative sketch, 443; 
views, 444; plans of a Pasadena house, 445 ; 
plans of a Montecito house, 446 
Humming Bird, the Anna — humming birds, 
from life, 715-716 


Huntington, the Right Reverend Frederick 
Dan — portrait of the bishop, 2 

Indian Types, a Noted Painter of — Indian 
heads, face 280-328 

Jones, Golden-Rule — Samuel Milton Jones, 
506; Golden-Rule Park, 535; hall, 536 

Keith, William — portrait, 238; Mount Ta- 
malpais, 301; upland pastures, 302 

Library, the Flower Memorial — "Religion," 
378; statue of Governor Flower, 381; "The 
Open Book," 382; main dome, 385; south 
wall painting, 386; north wall painting, 
387; rotunda and corridor, 388; "Battle of 
Lake Erie," 391 ; "Old Watertown," 391 ; 
Pergola and stack room, 392; corridor and 
reading room mantel, 395 ; exterior, 396 

Library, the Public, Development of — Medi- 
cal School, Paris, 511; Boston Library, 512; 
Ste. Genevieve, Paris, 513; Flower Library, 


Morris, William, the Man — ^portrait, face 412 

Muir, John — portrait, 636; Vernal Falls, 641; 
the half dome, 642; the half dome, 647; 
Yosemite Valley, 648; Profile Cliff and El 
Capitan, 649; Cathedral Peak, 650; The 
Three Brothers, 655; Yosemite Falls, 656 

Mural Painting from the American Point of 
View — barter with Indians, 19; America, 

Mural Paintings, Robert Reid's, in the Mas- 
sachusetts State House — -the State House, 
703; Paul Revere's ride, 704; Boston Tea 
Party, 705 ; James Otis arguing, 706 

Music, American Folk, a Bit of — a Pueblo 
Indian grinding song, face 37 

Museum, a Colonial Crafts — the Ellsworth 
mansion, 161 ; corner of drawing room, 161 ; 
dining room, 162; sleeping room, 162 

Notes — pottery, face 748 ; a craftsman interior, 
face 749 

Organ, Evolution of the — organ hydraulicum, 
549; pneumatic, 549; Hebrew magraphah, 
551; Reed flutes, 553; Bible and cabinet 
organs, 554; Bible and book organs, 555; 
old portable organ, 556 ; twelfth century 
organ, 560; portable regal, 561; bellows of 
organ at St. Aegidian, 562 

Ornament, Its Use and Abuse — chairs, 580, 
581, 582, 583; tables, 584, 585; desks, 586, 


Pewter Craft, the — pewter salver and plateau, 
433; Washington's mess outfit, 434; flagon 
and tankard, 435; pewter ware, 436 

Pewter Plate, Old — colonial pewter, 573 ; 
Chinese, 574, 575; colonial, 576; communion 
service, 577; porringers, 578; Japanese and 
Chinese, 578 

Photographer of Children, a Successful — baby, 
461; soap bubbles, 461; "She dresses ray 
doll for me," 462 ; "The jolliest kind of 
an Auntie," 463; "The Baker Man," 464; 
"Rake the coals and blow the bellows," 

Portraits, Eucaustic, Ancient Greek — Ptole- 
maeus Philadelphus, 145 ; Ptolemaeus Soter, 
146; Cleopatra, 147; Berenice, 148; Philo- 
meter, 149; Eurgetes, 150; Cleopatra Try- 
phaena, 151; Perseus, 152 

Sculpture, the Lesson of — Palace of the Old 
Vine, 119; mediaeval house, Bourges, 120 

Sculpture, Municipal — Andrassy street, Buda- 
pest, 241 ; Boulevard Elizabeth, 242 ; monu- 
ment, Lyons, 245; Carnot monument, 246; 
Girondin monument, Bordeaux, 247; Bar- 
tholdi fountain, Lyons, 248 ; Estrangin foun- 
tain, Marseilles, 251; Modern Academy, 
Athens, 252; fountain, Marseilles, 255; Cas- 
cade, Barcelona, 255; promenade, Padua, 
256; Place des Jacobins, Lyons, 256 

Silverware, Gorham, Some Recent Examples 
of — Table, 449; Crozier and alms basin, 
450; chalice and paten, 451; tankard, 452; 
rose water jug and stand, 453; loving cup, 
454; punch bowl and ladle, 455; candela- 
brum, 456 

Tiffany & Company at the St. Louis Exposi- 
tion — vase, 171 ; tea service and powder 
box, 172; salver, 173; mirror, 174; collar 
and pendant, 175; ornaments, 176, 177, 178; 
girdle, 178 ; necklace, 178 

Ugliness, from, to Beauty — complexity, 311; 
harmony, 311; glitter, 312; beauty, 312; 
old-time quiet, 313; subdued color, 313; 
beauty with utility, 314 


Wagner, M., Two Days with — portrait of decoration, 197; passementerie, bertha, 198 ; 

M. Charles Wagner, 102, 187; M. Wagner, laces, 199; frieze, 200; drawing for tex- 

M. Xavier Koenig, Mr. Gustav Stickley tiles, 200; passementeries, 201; bertha, col- 

and Mr. George Wharton James, 188 lar, 202; handkerchief, collar, and scarf. 

Women, Artistic Handicrafts for — window 203; centerpiece, 204 

* '' *^ 


vitae, scelerisqiie purus 

IN the furtherance of the principles upon the basis of which The 
Craftsman was founded in October, 1901, the Magazine in its 

new form will present each month a sketch of some contemporary 
individual whom the love of a great cause, the devotion to an ideal, 
or the sense of some specific duty has dominated to the degree of cast- 
ing out complexity from his life; leaving it simple, strong and en- 
thusiastic to the point of intensity. 

As an example of such a life, passed in a position, which but for 
the resistance offered by an invincible austerity, might have been 
attended with pomp and circumstance, the career of Frederick Dan 
Huntington, Protestant Episcopal Bishop of Central New York, has 
been chosen to begin the series. 

This choice, it would seem, is justified from more than a single 
point of view. The Craftsman, published in Syracuse, honors the 
memory of a recently deceased, venerable Churchman, who, for thir- 
ty-five years, labored with distinguished power for the purification 
and the progress of the community; while involved in this just tribute 
to a domestic example of dignity and virtue, there exists the broader 
recognition of the accomplishments of one of the most laborious citi- 
zens of the Universal Commonwealth of God. — [Editor.] 

OR churchmen and scholars throughout the country, the 
name of Bishop Huntington recalls a sincere Christian 
of the militant crusading type; a stern moralist; a dis- 
tinguished student of history, philosophy and doctrine; 
a convincing preacher of the argumentative class; a 
writer of English undefiled. These high qualifications 
certainly constitute a claim to long remembrance. But yet they fail 
to picture the beneficent, radiant personality which lately has been 
withdrawn from the scene of its gracious activity. For the citizens 
of his cathedral city. Bishop Huntington was something more than 
an abstract spiritual force working like a powerful chemical upon 
the materialism of a commercial and industrial center. He was in- 
deed a "reverend father in God," creating a palpable atmosphere of 




purity, as he walked through the streets, growing year by year dearer 
to the people as his figure became more bent and his step more feeble ; 
longing, as he expressed himself, for "his Father's broad acres." His 
searching eye, as it was plain to the observer, glanced about him in 
judgment, as well as in blessing, and his voice in greeting, often 
framed words which testified to his abiding consciousness of his posi- 
tion as a churchman : as, for example, on one occasion when he wished 
his passing friend, instead of the conventional good-morning: "A 
happy St. Stephen's Day." His type of Christian, scholar and man, 
is one that, to the universal loss, is rapidly becoming extinct. His 
rare personality will be regretted by his great flock, his friends and 
his townsmen, until they too shall have passed away. 

The sources of his personality are not remote or obscure for any 
reader of his biography familiar with the New England character. 
His simplicity of life developed from his intense devotion to an ideal 
which cast out complexity from his character, to the absolute degree 
that it reflected nothing of the passing show of the world. His career, 
with its deep mystic revelation, its advance amid perils and sacrifice, 
can be compared with extreme fitness to the "Quest of the Holy 
Grail." His unexpected personal vision of the Divine, his austere 
preparation for his high priesthood, his renunciations of things wor- 
thy and desirable in themselves, all have their originals and close 
parallels in the story of Galahad. None more truthfully than this 
modern spiritual pathfinder could declare: 

"My strength is as the strength of ten. 
Because my heart is pure." 

As can not be too thoroughly emphasized, the facts of the Bishop's 
origin and training account plainly for the trend and acts of his life 
more plainly than similar facts are wont to do, even in the case of 
marked individuals. But this correspondence, more often than else- 
where, is found in the New England character which, although ap- 
parently eccentric, is, in reality, deeply logical. The humbler types 
show a persistency which often passes the limits of obstinacy; while 
the higher are given up to the pursuit of the loftiest ideals. The 
humbler, as pictured in the best fiction relative to the region, are 
drawn from the life, and reproduce happily, but without caricature, 
the humor of the originals; while history, from the Colonial period 
to that of the Civil War, teems with examples of distinguished New 


Englanders who have devoted their lives to the strictest service of 
God, country and humanity. Among the latest survivors of this class, 
Bishop Huntington finds his rank, like that other "Candle of the 
Lord," who, for a few short years, sent out from the bishopric of 
Boston, a strong pure flame into the gathering darkness of unbelief. 

The ideality, the strength, the unflinching purpose must then be 
regarded as the great inheritance of Bishop Huntington from his 
ancestors, whom, in some indefinite way, it seems natural to picture as 
living the lives and using the speech attributed to the Puritan group 
in Robert Browning's drama of "Strafford." 

But there is no need to depend for evidence upon remote associa- 
tion of ideas. The Puritan characteristics brought over-seas, to "the 
stern and rock-bound coast," persisted, unchanged in essence, for more 
than two centuries, and although much less pronounced to-day than 
we can believe them to have been even fifty years since, it may be 
because the forces opposing them are largely spent, while the qualities 
themselves permeate like a leaven the division of society into which 
they are introduced, hidden in the composition, but infusing it with 

The desire for freedom to worship God made the Puritan. It 
continued with him generation after generation, as his thoughts were 
modified by radical political and social changes, by a new life in a 
new world. One and the same nature revolted against spiritual tyr- 
any under Archbishop Laud in the mother country and against the 
narrowness of orthodoxy in the New England meeting-house. In 
this later form of the struggle, both parents of Bishop Huntington 
were involved, the father's name being expunged from the list of 
Congregational ministers, and the mother, after trial for heresy, being 
expelled from the church. In her actual life having been strong to en- 
dure, she has met the reward of her convictions and courage. She still 
survives in a word-portrait by one of her sons, which renders her as 
she might be pictured by one who, knowing her antecedents, should 
work from them alone in the effort to shadow forth her personality. 
This portrait of the mother, which is a valuable aid to the under- 
standing of the character of her eminent son, is, furthermore, beautiful 
in treatment. The collocation of the words composing it is such that 
the sentences, when spoken, rise and fall with a lyric movement which 
connotes and suggests the aspiration, the sadness, the sympathy of the 
life whose story it follows. It reads: 


"In her the same Puritan austerity was perhaps accentuated by 
the inheritance of reserve and stern decision which came from her 
father's family. Mingled with this was a susceptibility and a self- 
depreciation inclined to melancholy. Hers was a nature responding 
quickly to all that was noble, easily depressed by anything false; ten- 
der and generous in its sympathies, severe and relentless in self-con- 
demnation. An uncompromising moral sense, joined with the scrupu- 
lous Puritan conscience, led her to seek the attainment of the highest 
standard in herself and her family. A large benevolence made her 
lenient and pitiful toward the sinful and suffering." 

From the above-quoted authoritative source, as well as from 
logical deduction, we may gain an adequate idea of the inherited 
traits of Bishop Huntington. These provided the foundation of his 
character. His specific intellectual training, together with the 
searching spiritual experiences of his early manhood built the super- 
structure apparent to the world. 

Born at Hadley, Massachusetts, under the colonial roof-tree of 
his ancestors, it was but natural that he should be educated at Am- 
herst, the local college endeared to him through family traditions and 
recognized as one of the strongest American institutions of learning. 
He there found himself in brilliant companionship and under the 
active influence of high accomplishment, since, during the decade 
1 830- 1 840, this college sent forth into the Christian ministry and the 
fields of literature and science, Richard Storrs, fervent preacher and 
writer of exquisite English, Henry Ward Beecher, Hitchcock the 
educator. Governor Bullock and others whose early promise was 
justified by their subsequent course. And, in passing, let a tribute of 
gratitude, at this late day, be paid to the institution so fostering our 
mother tongue that the writings of her sons, Storrs and Huntington, 
stand to-day as literary models not unworthy to be compared with the 
production of Newman and Kingsley. And also let a word of regret 
be expressed for the passing of the dignified style exemplified in all 
that has come down to us from the pens of the American college men 
of that day, whether they owed their allegiance and training to 
Amherst, or to Harvard, to Yale, or to Hamilton. 

In the case of the subject of our sketch, the Cambridge Divinity 
School added its professional teachings to the liberal education given 
by the college, and the young minister went out to his ordination as 
pastor of the Unitarian congregation of the South Congregational 



Church, Boston. Here for thirteen years was the scene of his labors, 
which were characterized by all that rarified moral elevation, that fine 
practical sense, that infusion of religion into the daily affairs of life 
which have ever marked the Unitarianism of New England. Because 
of his permeating activity, and because youth appeals to youth through 
a participation in the same ideals and visions, the pastor who was dis- 
tinguished no less by his unremitting labor among his people than by 
his sermons burning with biblical eloquence, became an acknowledged 
leader of young men. 

This leadership, exercised with that restraint which is but the 
guarantee of the power beneath it, grew with the years, until the estab- 
lishment of the Plummer Professorship of Christian Morals, at Har- 
vard, in 1855, when no question was raised as to the occupant of the 
new position ; the choice being inevitable and falling upon the pastor 
of the South Church as one who would supremely justify the title 
under which he was to enter the ancient and dignified institution of 

At this point the comparison is at the closest between the career of 
Bishop Huntington and the story painted by Mr. Abbey on the walls 
of the Boston Public Library. There we see Galahad as yet uncon- 
scions of his mission, but already clothed with the flame-colored gar- 
ment significant of spiritual love, and being led to the Seat Perilous; 
while the knights of the Round Table cast searching glances upon the 
newcomer, and an encompassing cloud of heavenly witnesses, unseen 
by the knights, smile down their sanction. 

The story and the reality with which we are dealing, are perfect 
parallels. As Galahad, at the moment named, is supposed to feel 
onlv the power of his own purity, having no comprehension of his 
real mission to men, so the young teacher accepted his position among 
the older bearers of the panoply of learning, having no presentiment 
of the momentous spiritual struggle, of the Heavenly Vision which 
awaited him. 

Up to this time he had accepted as a legacy the faith adopted, 
after close examination, by both his parents. He had not sought 
personally to solve problems in what Rufus Choate named in all 
reverence "the arithmetic of Heaven." But all about him men were 
working in travail of spirit, seeking to define the mysterious elements 
of Trinitv and Unity. The subtile intellectual strife, waged at Con- 
stantinople in the early Christian centuries, from the times of Saint 



Chrysostom to those of the Emperor Justinian, was renewed in a 
modern spirit in the lecture rooms at Harvard, and in Boston pulpits, 
thence spreading through the country wherever it could find condi- 
tions of thought adapted to develop it from the germ. 

In the opinion of those capable of judging, it is difficult from the 
present point of time to realize the bitterness, the fierceness of this 
theological war in which each party, recognizing the necessity of 
enrolling youth with the energies and promise belonging to it, upon 
its side, sought to gain for its own the Plummer professor, as the lead- 
er of the student element. To quote directly from a well-informed 

"It was natural that Huntington should be accounted a Unitarian. 
But it is evident that during the years of his study his theological 
views had been changing. Even in the volume published at the time 
he entered Harvard (''Sermons for the People") , he clearly stated his 
belief in the 'proper Divinity of Christ.' Now, with a directness as 
strong as it was simple, with a power as marked as it was gentle, he 
delivered a sermon which forever removed him from the ranks of 
the Unitarians. This sermon decided once for all the preacher's 
theological position; while his acceptance of the rectorship of the 
newly organized Emmanuel Church in Boston decided his church 
connections." As a minor detail, but one not without consequence, it 
is here interesting to note the intellectual relations existing between 
the College at Cambridge and the neighboring city, which by those 
concerned have always been regarded as of importance, involving 
what in the science of government would be called "the balance of 
power." Thus, to illustrate, the foundation in 1809 of the Society of 
Park Street Church, the famous stronghold of orthodoxy, was a protest 
against the Unitarian heresy of the College; while more than a half- 
century later, the Emmanuel Church rose as a further remonstrance 
against the doctrines promulgated from the scholastic town beyond 
the Charles. 

If the already described religious movement of the years 1855- 
1860 be interesting to study in its external aspect, how profitable 
would be the record of the personal experience of the great shepherd 
of a spiritual flock who owed the revelation of his own mission to this 
critical period. The lonely struggle, the probing of doctrine and 
dogma, the doubt, the wavering, the final decision at New England 
Harvard recall the crisis passed several decades previously at Oriel 


College, Oxford, by John Henry Newman, the result of which gave 
an eminent cardinal to the Roman Church. From the dark depths 
of spiritual anguish both Christians implored the guidance of the 
"Kindly Light" which at last broke amid the gloom to point their 
predestined path; the cry of the earlier wayfarer resolving itself into 
one of the most perfect of churchly lyrics; the aspiration of the later 
tried soul spreading abroad to revitalize a venerable form of the 
Church of Christ. 

Singularly like the Oxford Movement — barring, of course, all 
considerations of doctrine — was the influence exerted some thirty 
years later and within restricted limits by the rector and congregation 
of the Emmanuel Church immediately subsequent to its organi- 
zation. Its treasury was depleted by the demands made by the Civil 
War upon its members, so that the building of the church edifice was 
long deferred. But meanwhile its rector, with the enthusiasm of a 
newly adopted faith, the serenity derived from reliance upon a his- 
toric system, and the steadfastness of the true Puritan, pursued his 
labors among "all sorts and conditions of men." Scholarly, brilliant, 
possessed of many social graces, he was never deflected from the strait 
and narrow path by the allurements of the position which he occupied 
by the right of birth and accomplishment. As can not be too strongly 
insisted, the revelation of his mission invaded and overcame his spirit, 
expelling therefrom all complexity and establishing beyond possi- 
bility of removal an absolute simplicity of life and action. "The 
Gospel is for the poor and needy," said he, "and in my parish they 
shall have all they will take." How different these words from those 
of the rector of the older Trinity, when the church was building in 
Summer Street, and he, being asked why such small proportions were 
adopted, replied: "The room will be ample enough to hold all the 
gentlemen of Boston." 

Thus always in the spirit of the "Sermon on the Mount," always 
to the upbuilding and preservation of the great Commonwealth which 
he loved with hereditary ardor, the rector of Emmanuel worked in 
his ever-expanding parish for eight years, until, in 1869, he was elect- 
ed to the bishopric ; his charge being the then newly created diocese of 
Central New York. Then, upon the assumption of a dififerent, if not 
a greater power than he had already exercised in the professor's chair, 
the pulpit and the important city parish, he clearly defined for him- 
self the duties of his dignified office; choosing no model other than 



the Founder and Head of the Christian Church, but fortifying his 
conscience and courage by the example and counsel of the worthiest 
representatives of the long Apostolic Succession of whom his pro- 
found learning had given him a perfect appreciation. 

But there was no mediaevalism in his methods, except his exqui- 
sitely tine sense of the functions of a bishop as a shepherd of souls. 
Therefore, while others slept, or were stolid to danger, he remained 
alert and fearless, announcing clearly under its real name each evil, 
as soon as it appeared and threatened. He was no respecter of per- 
sons: everv class, when proper, coming under his scathing condemna- 
tion. His was a modern spirit appealing to all that is best in a com- 
plex social svstem, while denouncing with extreme vehemence the 
evils attendant upon it. As the holder of a dignity about which clus- 
ter memories of temporal power, he inveighed against war, and dis- 
cussed broad questions of statecraft and politics. As one who deeply 
loved his fellow men, he entered with the zeal of the younger genera- 
tion into the new study of sociology, with all that it implies of relief 
from the present tyrannous industrial system. Here he felt that the 
mission of the Church is evident and that her credentials are clear; 
that upon her devolve the discussion of current wrongs and the per- 
manent leadership in moral reform. 

In the championship of these great public causes, the world-pain 
weighed upon him, and he seemed like a Winkelried of the Church, 
clasping to his own breast the whole sheaf of weapons directed against 
society bv the enemies of order and equity. But yet it was his concep- 
tion of domestic duty and virtue which made him most precious to 
the Church at large and to the community in which he so actively 
labored. Like the true philosopher he was, he regarded the family 
as the foundation of the State, and so labored diligently to exterminate 
therefrom the worm of corruption. The impure man, the luxurious, 
parasitic woman, the disobedient, disrespectful child, had each a share 
in his warnings and denunciations. Still, according to the traditions 
of his Puritan race, he chastised but to bless. By those who guard his 
memory sometimes he will be recalled as a prophet of the wrath to 
come. But more frequently a majestic, serene, and withal a tender 
presence will rise before the mental vision: a figure clad in the white 
radiance of episcopal garments, and with hands extended in benedic- 
tion over the head of a kneeling candidate for confirmation. And 
then will be heard as in echo the incisive accent of New England, 


softened by the awe of office and sanctuary, pronouncing the uplifting 
words of the ritual: "Defend, O Lord, this thy child with thy Heav- 
enly Grace: that he may continue thine forever; and daily increase 
in thy Holy Spirit more and more, until he come to thine Everlasting 

AS narrative and criticism must always fail in some measure to 
describe character and personality, certain passages from the 
sermons and pastoral letters of Bishop Huntington are here 
offered, in the belief that the reformer, the philanthropist, the tender 
friend of humanity, will be shadowed forth more adequately in his 
own words than through the utterances, however sympathetic, of 

In a logical analysis of the principles of war he argued: 

"No code of morals pretends that any military army, battlefield, 
or campaign, has ever shifted the needle in the balance between the 
right cause and the wrong, between justice and fraud, between truth 
and the lie by the shadow of a hair. No political economy has un- 
dertaken to justify a custom which costs a warring nation millions of 
treasure a month, which tears the flesh of its citizens to pieces and 
makes twice as many mourners in homes as there are corpses on the 
field, bringing no fruit or grain out of the ground." And further: 

"For the actual testimony of what war is we might very well look 
to the great soldiers themselves; not alone to preachers, or poets, or 
moralists, or political partisans, or orators, or story tellers, or even to 
historians — but to generals and commanders of armies, men of calm 
and guarded speech, who have been scarred and crippled, and have 
fought with courage to the last and have won the highest earthlv titles. 
No witnesses to the horrors of warfare have been plainer or more posi- 
tive than these. Decorate the monster, they tell you, as you will, go 
from the shouts and banners, the triumphs and processions of the 
jubilee to the battlefield; lift the veil and look underneath. There 
are miseries and cruelties, agonies and outrages, rapine and lust, 
mourning and desolation. These are warfare, not as it is painted, 
but as it is." 

Still upon the same subject, he expresses himself with all the vigor 
of a Cromwellian Puritan: 

"If preachers were consistent, they would, on the outbreak of a 
war, pray for what actually occurs in every war, successful or unsuc- 

Vv ^tP Li 1907 j) 


cessful. They would approach the Throne of Grace with a petition 
that the enemy might have his optic nerve cut by a ball ; that he might 
have his pelvis smashed; that he might be disemboweled; that he 
might lose one or two of his legs ; that he might lie on the field thirty- 
six hours, mortally wounded; that he might die of enteric fever; that 
his provisions and water might give out; that his house might be 
burned, and his family left roofless and starving." 

IN condemning the existing industrial system, he rivals the bitter 
invective of Kropotkin. But with the difference that he reaches 
no revolutionary climax, and, instead, modulates into a calm an- 
nouncement of the duty of the Church toward the slaves of capitalism : 

"The saddest feature about it all is the waste of human life, the 
fact that the wonderful possibilities in these human brothers are never 
unfolded and realized. A social and industrial system in which one 
man controls thousands of lives and is possessed of millions of money; 
in which able-bodied men, willing to work, walk the streets in despera- 
tion, looking for a job; in which thousands of women, owing to op- 
pressive labor and small remuneration, are under a continual tempta- 
tion to barter womanhood for gain ; in which are tenements not fit for 
pig-sties, where women fight with fever, and infants pant for air and 
wail out their little lives; in which the sweater's den and the grog- 
shop thrive — such a society is very far, indeed, from that order which 
God wishes and ordains." 

It may be said that preaching on such controversial topics would 
be hazardous. To which the writer replies: 

"That may be; but hazardous to whom? To the preacher? All 
the real hazard to him arises from the fact that he is faithless to his 
trust. To the hearers? Would to God that it were more hazardous 
to those who are guilty of the monstrous wrongs which hurt their 
fellows and hinder the kingdom of God! 

"The mission of the Church is evident; the Church's credentials 
are clear; the need of the world is great. Nothing could be more 
weak and pitiable than for the churches to confess that whole provinces 
of life lie beyond their interest. Nothing could be more cruel and 
cowardly than for the churches to say that they have no word to offer 
on the problems which make the peril and the opportunity of our 
time. Nothing could be more calamitous and short-sighted than for 


the churches to leave to outsiders, to unbelievers often, the discussion 
of current wrongs and the leadership in moral reform." 

Here again is the invective: this time used to scathe and sear, like 
the sacred flame of an Old Testament prophet: 

"Will the fire scorch Hebrew monopolists only? Will it skip the 
pews of the nineteenth century capitalists, owners of foul sweating 
shops, unsanitary tenements, selfishly managed mines, factories and 
railways, because the warnings have rung down through eighteen 
centuries? There are inequalities that the Almighty permits; there 
are other inequalities which man makes and God abhors and rebukes. 
One of these must be that where a privileged, shrewd and importunate 
employer makes miseries along with his millions. There are com- 
petitions fair and scrupulous, there are others as despicable as they 
are despotic." 

The eloquence of wrath and vengeance ceases. A clear, Christ- 
like voice speaks with tenderness and divine sympathv: 

"It is intolerable to all right religion that numbers of people 
should be miserable and needy while there is plentv and to spare in 
the Father's house. No one who believes in Jesus Christ can believe 
that it is the will of the Heavenly Father that one part of the human 
family shall go hungry and destitute, while another part is living in 
luxury and ease. The most tragic fact about this poverty and igno- 
rance is not the hunger and suffering, though these are sad enough." 

AND now the ideal citizen lifts his voice against the injustice that 
would spare the rich and condemn the poor; penetrating all 
externals and accidents of birth and condition, laying bare the 
essence of things and the souls of men : 

"Societies for bettering the condition of the poor, for tenement 
house reforms, for sending the Gospel to foreign lands, — these we 
have and their name is legion, and their beneficence is undisputed; 
but a society for reforming the vicious conditions and correcting 
the abuses in every class, — that begins at the bottom and cleans house 
to the top, where will we find that? The rich cry to one another: 
'The poor are our curse; we must get rid of poverty.' They do not 
say to one another: 'We are the curse, with our luxuries, sordidness, 
pride, vanity and selfishness." We have been called upon again and 


again to sit on committees and consider the sins of the Bowery. Who 
calls a meeting to consider the sins of Fifth Avenue?" 

EXERCISING his Bishop's office, and as the conservor of the 
home, he uses the specific and homely words of a Savonarola: 
"If it were to be trumpeted abroad by a fierce Philistinism, out- 
right and shamelessly, that home is only a place to dress in for ball- 
rooms and opera houses and dinner parties, a place to recruit in after 
one bout of exxess and to get up vitality for another, a place to restore 
jaded nerves or mortified pride or a sore temper, a show-room for 
styles, a roost for birds of passage, an auction room for matrimonial 
bidders and merchants, a muck-yard where to unload the scandalous 
gatherers of a wanton curiosity picked up among the fragments of 
social decomposition, or a kennel for whipped ambitions outwitted 
and humiliated at last by hawks and setters of either sex, — then de- 
cency and charity would cry out together in remonstrance at the 
intolerable calumny." 

Preparing those under his charge for Lenten discipline, he asks: 

"Is your danger or your sin that of saying uncharitable things of 
other men or women? Is it that of envying or slandering them? Is 
it that of wasting time or money? Is it vanity? Is it that of deceiv- 
ing anybody? Is it luxurious indulgence or wishing you could afford 
it? Is it blaming Providence for your hardships? Is it leading 
others into sin? These questions are personal. Make them personal 
to yourself. Watch self-delusions. Let go the shallow notion that 
general intentions can be put in place of particular acts of your 
will, or that talk, however fine, about public evils, or wicked fashions, 
or social degeneracy, or upperclass folly, or business dishonesty, will 
in any possible way be reckoned on the credit side of your account with 
Eternity, and the commandments of the Searcher of your heart." 

Also this passage, marked by the plainness, the primitive purity of 
the early Fathers of the Church : 

"I say to you, weighing my own words, that you would be less 
depraved, less savage, would less disgrace your womanhood, would 
be less a curse to your kind, bv going to see dogs fight in their kennels 
at the Five Points, or bulls gore horses in Spain, than by putting on 
your bonnet and gloves and going from house to house in your neigh- 
borhood, assailing absent acquaintances, dribbling calumny, sowing 



suspicion, planting and watering wretchedness, stabbing character, 
alienating friends bv repeating to one the detraction that you 'heard' 
another has spoken."' 

With a strong touch of grim New England humor, he speaks thus 
to the girl graduates of the Church School which he controlled: 

*'Going myself into as many houses in a twelve-month, perhaps, 
as most men who are not book-agents, I always wonder why it should 
not be as interesting to make a chamber artistic as a bonnet, to work 
a handsome daily home-life as a piece of embroidery or plaque paint- 
ing, to play a harmony of household dispositions as a symphony of 
Beethoven, to translate the temperament and tastes of a household as 
a comedy of Aristophanes, or to interpret the moods of an American 
husband as of any of the heroes of the 'Iliad.' " 
. Then passing into a graver mood, he continues: 

"I want you so to deal with your inward world of thought, of 
reason, of responsibility, and of hope, that in case you can come some 
day to a house-door where you enter to take control, you will not come 
all unfurnished yourself and unready, to begin haphazard experi- 
ments, to make up your general plan of living wholly as you go along, 
to lose gracious or grand opportunities because you did not know how 
to close your hand upon them, to blunder, not because you must, but 
because you did not care whether you blundered or not, and when 
you knew all along that in your failure and suffering you would not 
fail or suffer alone; in short, that you will begin your high calling 
with some forecast not only of its possibilities but of what the God and 
Father of all the families of the earth has ordained it to be." 

LOOKING upon labor in the light of an actual religion, he thus 
denounces the laborers who show themselves unworthy of their 
"The woman or girl who hurries from her home, her kitchen, her 
shop, her printing office, her sewing room, with a notion that her 
daily labor is a hardship, and her chief good is where she can show 
her clothes and be amused, has been pitiably deceived, or has deceived 

Then with feeling which would appear not as a broad sympathy, 
but rather as a result of personal experience he writes: 




I take the little kiss she gives me when I go forth at morn, 
I take the little farewell wish upon the breezes borne; 
I take her little arms' caress and in the morning light 
Go out in the world of toil, the battle for the right. 

Ring, anvils, with your clangor ! 

Burn, forges, fierce and far ! 
The night shall bring the world of home, 

Where love and goodness are ! 

I lean to little lips she lifts to my rough lips of love, 

I read the mother-hope that shines in eyes that gleam above; 

I hear the roaring city call, and unto it I go 

Light-hearted for the stress, because a child heart loves me so, 

Swing, hammers, with your clatter ! 

Whirl, wheels, and shaft and beam! 
The light of love shall guide me home 

From out of this shroud of steam ! 

I take the little rose she holds and pin it on my breast, 

I take the tender memory of her word that cheered and blest; 

I face the urgent purpose of the labor that is mine. 

Filled with her trust and patience, her youth and faith divine. 

Plunge, cities, with your thunder 

Of trafHc-shout and roar ! 
I take the task and do the deed. 

While she waits at the door! 

I take the task, I face the toil, I deem it sweet to be 
Bound to the labor that is love for love's fine liberty; 
From morning unto eventide, remembering her I go. 
Under bending wheel that glides forever to and fro, 

Sing, mills, your clattering chorus, 
Down where the millions sweat ! 

I bare my arms and give my strength 
And joy in what I get ! 



I give and take, and give again, and unto dark am bent 
Beneath the burden of the task for which sweet Hfe is spent; 
But, ah, the wage so dear to have, the little lips that wait. 
The hearts that ring, the arms that cling, when I unlatch the gate ! 

Clang with your mighty revel ! 

Roar, cities, with your strife! 
And God be praised for strength to toil 

For wage of love and life ! 

FINALLY, in old age, courage and faith triumph over the 
physical weakness of the Man of God, and he expresses relig- 
iously what Tennyson in his "Crossing the Bar," Browning in 
his "Prospice," and Longfellow in his "Morituri Salutamus," wrote 
in their farewell messages to the world, in different forms, but in the 
same sense of trust in the Eternal : 


Far on, from hill to hill, my road runs, O, my friendliest Friend, 
Less free my plodding feet, less sure my step, less keen my sight. 

Yet in the fading West keep for me to the end 

Thy morning pledge — "At evening-time it shall be light!" 

Come, when pain's throbbing pulse in brain or nerve is burning, 
O Form of Man that moved among the faithful Three, 

These earth enkindled flames to robes of glory turning. 

Walk "through the fire," peace-giving Son of God, with me. 

"House of my pilgrimage," built by Thy care, O God, 

Fill with Thy praise ! I can not sing; be thine, not mine, the song! 

Shape thou into a mystic "staff," Thy piercing, stinging "rod," 
That stumbling, leaning there, when weak I may be strong. 

Spread Thou an Elim-tent for me on doubt's dry sand ; 

Moisten my Yale of Baca from Thy living fountains; 
Stay me with altar-flagons in Thy Paschal Hand, 

Show my dull eyes Thy triumph chariots in the Eternal mountains. 

OLD HADI.F.Y, I'.'Ol. F. 11. H. 



HE walls of great public buildings, here as elsewhere, 
in the future, as they have done in the past, will afiford 
the painter his greatest opportunities. As the noblest 
themes excite the noblest endeavor, the subjects and 
events proper for pictorial expression in our public 
monuments will develop and command the highest 
powers of our greatest artists. 

It is then on wall paintings, public and accessible to all, that we 
may most hopefully look for the development of a national art. 

Now, unfortunately, in popular estimation, the easel picture in 
its gilded frame and shadow box is more often held to be the highest 
and most precious manifestation of the painter's skill. 

People with no knowledge of the history of art, or whose knowl- 
edge is superficial, often tacitly assume that other forms of painting 
are the productions of practitioners of an inferior order, and that the 
work of the gold frame genius, suitable for the parlor and exhibition 
gallery, only calls for serious criticism and attention. 

Curiously enough, this view of what constitutes "high art" is also 
not unusual within a certain class of painters. 

The judgment of Michelangelo regarding easel pictures is as true 
to-day as when he made his historic and uncomplimentary comment; 
although the general practice of easel painting by artists now has the 
sufBcient excuse of necessity. 

It is almost their only medium of expression. 

Our monumental art is still in its infancy and relatively few wall 
paintings have been executed here. 

But the knowledge of the requirements and limitations peculiar 
to mural art and of its relation to its architectural surroundings 
shown by American artists, as well as the almost uniform excellence 
of their work, is surprising when one considers how rare have been 
their opportunities to practise this difficult and exacting branch of 
their profession. 

It is also surprising and not particularly gratifying to find on 
examination that many of these paintings show few indications of an 
American point of view, or of what must be the character of the future 
decoration of American public buildings. 

Center panel of mural painting ior Baltimore Court House, ten feet high by eight feet four inches wide. Size of entire 
work ten by sixty feet. Copyright C. Y. Turner. 1892 



Will H. Low. In the Waldorf-Astoria, New York 
Copyright, Will H. Low 


All do not sin in this respect; there are exceptions, and the excep- 
tions are important. 

Monumental art in this democracy can never be a toy for the rich, 
nor will it ever be a field for the exploitation of studio reminiscences 
and echoes of the old classical and academic art of Europe. 

It must have for its base the broad support of popular pride and 
appreciation. This, the condition of its existence and full develop- 
ment will, in the end, control its tendencies and govern its choice of 

It is obvious that the nationalization of public decoration, neces- 
sary and vital, if it is to be a living force, will receive efficient aid and 
guidance from the many active and public-spirited "patriotic socie- 
ties" scattered throughout the Union. The movement, too, can count 
on the steady assistance and championship of the various municipal 
art societies. 

Our people, as a whole, are still absorbed in other matters, and a 
general appreciation of mural art remains to be developed, and an 
efifective, popular support remains to be secured. 

Only a small proportion of our population and a smaller propor- 
tion of our public officials show any interest in the embellishment of 
our public buildings by painted decoration, or have any desire for it, 
yet, in spite of the present conditions, the outlook for mural painting 
in America is not without encouragement. 

An acquaintance — imperfect, it is true — with the character and 
intention of the decoration of the great state buildings of Europe is 
steadily spreading, and is begetting a desire for better things here. It 
is not confined to tourists and students of interior architecture alone, 
but has become the common possession of most readers of publications 
on art. 

Even among busy and practical people having no predilection for 
paintings, there is an awakening to the idea, that it is not an intellect- 
ual work to make the interior of a monumental building one vast area 
of marble slabs and machine made carvings, ignoring all pictorial 
records of the history, scenery and industries of the locality in which 
the structure is placed, or that such a result is especially creditable to 
the taste and judgment of the community responsible for the under- 

Although the artistic condition of most of our buildings afYords 
little ground for complacency or pride, it is wiser, when considering 


their present state, to have as few illusions as possible and to seek the 
facts as they exist; not forgetting that a change is taking place and 
that the change is for the better. 

It is an unpleasant truth that, with few exceptions, our commer- 
cial semi-public and public buildings are now "architectural monu- 
ments," pure and simple, and the credit for whatever is artistic on or 
in them can be conceded to the constructive designer. Outside or in, 
sculpture is barely represented, unless conventional figures, car- 
touches and carved ornament, almost always innocent of originality, 
are to be regarded as sculpture, and in them the work of the trained 
figure painter or the ornamentalist, unless of the commercial variety, 
is conspicuous by its absence. 

Their poverty in mural work, either in paintings, glass, or 
mosaic, is little realized, nor is their inferiority in this respect to 
buildings of like character in Great Britain or on the continent fully 
understood, until a comparison has been made, and the comparison 
when made is liable to give an American food for uncomfortable 

Our great railway corporations do not make the waiting rooms of 
their terminals picturesque and interesting by decorative paintings of 
the scenic beauties and views of the cities along their lines as the Paris 
and Lyons Railway has done on the magnificent new Gare de Lyon at 

We are credited with many Anglo-Saxon characteristics, and pos- 
sibly the somber gloom or eye-trying brightness of our halls of waiting 
exist for a purpose; not avowed and perhaps not felt. 

The writer of an appreciation of the late George Frederick Watts, 
which has recently appeared in "The Architect," a London publica- 
tion, in the course of his article, says : "He was willing, at his own cost, 
to paint the vast wall spaces in Hardwicke's terminus hall at Euston, 
which looked as if they were intended for that purpose, but railway 
managers are opposed to loiterers in stations and the offer was de- 

Our insurance companies erect buildings on which no expense is 
spared, except on things artistic. The sum expended on repetitive 
and trivial carvings on one costly structure in New York City, had it 
been wisely spent on mural work, would have made it unique among 
the office buildings of this or any other country. 

In Newark, however, a building of this class contains a most 



successful and important ceiling by one of our best men, and stained 
glass windows by another. In the business section of New York, a 
similar building has its main entrance hall enriched by a monumental 
mosaic, and its law library by a series of appropriate paintings. An- 
other of our foremost men has a wall painting on the staircase hall of 
one of the newer Nassau street buildings. 

Mural painting, simple and severe, dealing with the history of 
banking and exchange or with the form of commerce peculiar to the 
institution — as in a bank at Pittsburg which has panels treating of the 
iron business of Western Pennsylvania and the grain fields of Ohio, 
the two sections from which it draws the bulk of its business — would 
dignify the counting rooms of our great financial institutions. 

In their place, we find costly marbles, elaborate wood carvings, 
and lavish gilding. 

The citizens of no American city feel a greater pride in the emi- 
nence, wealth, and power of their municipality or are better acquaint- 
ed with its development and history than the citizens of Chicago. 

Here the directors of a great bank prescribed the history of the 
growth of the city for the decorations of their banking room, and 
commissioned an artist of reputation to execute them. The series is 
long and important. Beginning with the wintering of Pere Mar- 
quette, at the mouth of the Chicago river, and with old Fort Dear- 
born, and running through the homely beginnings of a western town 
up to the commanding present of the great modern city. The paint- 
ings excited and still excite unfailing popular interest. 

While a few other banks and office buildings have decorations, the 
list is short indeed. 

The vivifying touch of the artist, while found in rare instances, is 
lacking, in the majority of cases, from our commercial buildings, 
because its absence is not felt, nor its advantages recognized. The 
question of expense does not account for it. Take the exteriors alone 
of many buildings! Over ornamentation is common, and the cost of 
the unnecessary, inefficient, and often misplaced stone carvings would 
frequently more than pay for some painting or mosaic which would 
lend distinction and give individuality to the building and serve as 
its blazon. 

This is a commercial age, yet one cannot but question the acumen 
of business men who reject so manifest an advantage. 

The interiors of our libraries are also silent and dead and convey 



no message, a few only excepted, and nothing in the decorations of 
the two best known so much as hints that we have here material for 
prose and poem, or that the material has been used. 

The Congressional Library at Washington, beautiful as it is, and 
technically excellent as are its paintings, unpleasantly suggests a 
building given over to a group of talented and learned foreigners who 
have skilfully shown us how the storehouse for our national collection 
of books can be made attractive. 

Only the painters seem to have assumed that the people whose 
resources furnished the means for their work, were without a history 
or a literature. 

The wall paintings of the beautiful Public Library at Boston 
ignore absolutely American literary performance and are forgetful 
of the brilliant group of writers that gave literary distinction to the 

In all the libraries erected through the munificence of Mr. Car- 
negie, not one example can be shown of decoration appropriate to 
his gift. 

In contrast to these the Governor Flower Memorial Library at 
Watertown, New York, now nearing completion, will be a typical 
example of a building devoted to public uses whose walls record and 

Under the direction of the decorative architect responsible for 
the interior, a series of panels has been executed representing scenes 
from the past history of the neighborhood, making this library nota- 
ble among the buildings of its class. 

It is an interesting fact that the scenes recorded in the paintings of 
this building relate to a single county of this State, and the list of 
appropriate and available subjects was by no means exhausted. 

Compositions of great excellence and artistic beauty by some of 
our ablest artists are to be found in American hotels and theatres, 
and in addition to their primary and proper function here of enrich- 
ment, they serve to accustom and educate the public to the use of 
wall paintings. 

The National Capitol is a place above all others whose paintings 
should be a remembrance and an incentive to patriotism ; whose walls 
should speak in grave and measured tones of the country's past. 

It is the place above all others from which compositions, whose 
sole aim and function is to please by line and color, can best be spared. 



Fortunately, we find in the Capitol at Washington a series of 
paintings appropriate to their surroundings and imbued with the 
spirit of lofty endeavor ; whose motive and inspiration is American. 

Works that, however lacking in mural qualities they may be, 
clearly indicate, if they do not show, the manner in which public 
decorations should be conceived, and that have in addition a real and 
positive value as the foundation stones of the American school of 
mural painting. 

Our men are now perhaps better taught, better trained and wiser 
in craftsmanship than their predecessors, but in the purpose and 
intention of public art, they can still learn many a sober and serious 
lesson from the old painters of the Rotunda. Vanderlyn's "Landing 
of Columbus," Powell's " Discovery of the Mississippi," Weir's 
"Embarkation of the Pilgrims," Trumbull's "Declaration of Inde- 
pendence," and the rest are enduring memorials of their authors, as 
well as guide posts on the road to a National Art. 

Between the yesterday of the Rotunda paintings and to-day, little 
of like character exists. But American historical painting, after a 
period of neglect, is struggling to its feet and again many of our 
artists are seeking their inspiration in the history and tradition of 
their own land; leaving to the old in spirit and the feeble in inven- 
tion the long array of well worn and over-used allegories and person- 
ifications, characterless figures of no particular age or clime, and 
bending their energies to depict American endeavor and achievement. 

The list of works recently finished, under way, and projected, is 
not long, and is being all too slowly increased. But the movement 
has life, is gathering strength and forging ahead. A few examples 
can be readily recalled. The new Court House at Baltimore, through 
the initiative and partly at the expense of the Municipal Art Society 
of that city, has been enriched by a series of wall paintings of the first 
importance, treating subjects based on the history of Maryland. At 
Boston, one finds in the State House new paintings relative to the 
history of the Commonwealth. In the aldermanic chamber of New 
York a large ceiling decoration was recently placed, and in the City 
Hall of Cincinnati a successful series of stained glass windows. 

It is not the purpose of this article to attempt a demonstration of 
the relative importance, or lack of importance, of the story-telling easel 
picture, as compared with the canvas without a story, and which is a 
medium for the display of the painter's conception of pure beauty, or 


which is primarily an evidence of his technical competence or the 
subtility of his color sense. 

The gifted and sensitive devotees of art for art's sake, in the quiet 
of their studios, will continue to produce lyrics in color and frame 
them in gold, and they and their poems in pigment will not be without 
honor, or without the condemnation of the critic. 

But our wall paintings paid for by popular subscription or with 
money from the public treasury; on the walls of public buildings; 
owing their existence to public bounty, must have a purpose, decora- 
tive it is true, but higher than mere embellishment, in order to com- 
mand public approval and justify the expenditure of public funds. 

It is a safe and reasonable forecast that the future great art of this 
Republic, as far as it is expressed in painting, will find its complete 
and full development on the walls of our public buildings, and that of 
necessity and from the nature of our institutions and because of the 
conditions under which it must be executed, it will be primarily a 
recording art. 

That when American art has attained its full stature and entered 
into its own, it will be simple, virile and direct. 

It will have emancipated itself from supernatural figures and 
accessories. It will speak with no foreign accent, nor be encumbered 
with the theatrical properties of the schools. Except as they person- 
ify the ideals of the people, it will not need for its expression the tire- 
some collections of classical paraphernalia: Fame with her trumpet. 
The winged victory. The laurel crown and the palm of victory will 
fade and vanish away. 

The Italian Renascence was the prolific age of art production, 
and, in buildings crowded with paintings, it sometimes happened that 
the work of one great master was destroyed to make room for the 
work of a greater. 

Paintings by Piero della Francesca and Signorelli in the Vatican 
were obliterated to give place to the epoch-making frescoes of Raph- 
ael; while the important wall paintings of Perugino over the altar of 
the Sistine Chapel were sacrificed in order to afiford a field for the 
Last Judgment of the supreme master, Michelangelo; but no such 
slaughter of the innocents need be dreaded in America for many a 
long year to come. 

Throughout the land, public buildings stand bare and unadorned, 



their nakedness cr3ing out for covering, although the material to 
clothe them sumptuously is all about them. 

When completed and adorned in a manner befitting the wealth 
and importance of the American people, our painters, glass workers, 
and mosaicists will have made them golden records of the nation's 

On their walls, our lawgivers and statesmen, our authors, scientists 
and inventors, will find fitting remembrance. 

The growth of the State from the scattered and struggling colonies 
of the Atlantic seaboard to the Imperial Republic stretching from 
ocean to ocean; the sufferings and triumphs of our soldiers and 
sailors ; the development of our varied industries will be there record- 
ed. There, too, will be depicted the bustling life of our harbors, 
lakes and rivers, and landscape art will find new dignity and power 
in its larger field. 

The greatness of America's art future is freely predicted, and 
prophesies abound of her coming glory. 

The popular indifference to mural art is slowlyfpassing away, 
and the neglect here of this form of painting which affords the noblest 
opportunities for artistic endeavor will not long continue. How- 
ever unsatisfactory the present may be, the coming years are full of 

The character of much of the work recently done and now under 
way justifies the expectation that before many decades of the twentieth 
century shall have passed, our national and municipal buildings may 
be as richly embellished as their European counterparts, and that the 
work done will be American in character and worthy of the great 
Republic of the West. 

"flTHEN we want good things they will be produced 
^^ for us. Silent Shaksperes and idle Angeles await 
our summons ; they will not come at the call of hollow 
pretence, but when we want them so badly that we cannot 
live without them, they will arise to do our bidding. 





EPETITION and insistence, far from being annoying 
and tiresome, are often welcome. Sometimes they are 
necessary to the understanding of a subject, as we may 
find by reference to music. In works of that art, as, for 
instance, an orchestral composition, a theme but once 
presented, would be fragmentary. Its first and princi- 
pal use must be supplemented by its appearance in another key in 
which the original proportions and relations are maintained, but new- 
notes are struck. By this means the attention of the listener is re- 
tained, and the composition assumes for him an interest which arises 
from his acquaintance with it. It is thus, with the intention of 
emphasizing and expanding the argument of Mr. Shean upon "Mural 
Painting from the American Point of View," that the following com- 
ments are added to certain points which he makes with much truth 
and vigor. 

First of all, the basis of his argument is well-founded by his 
criticism of the easel picture, which is justified in history. Mural 
decoration is the art of organic periods when men are, so to speak, 
cohesive, and strong impulses prevail; when religion, patriotism and 
citizenship are not mere words with which the preacher and the poli- 
tician juggle, but rather when they exist in the breasts of the people 
as vital principles, inexplicable in words, but claiming the obedience 
of all. 

As an indirect consequence of the effort to maintain the unity of 
Christendom through the foundation of the Franciscans and the 
Dominicans, the walls of the churches throughout Italy clothed 
themselves with the story of the Faith. The same tendency mani- 
fested itself in the first organic period of society: that is, under the 
republics of antiquity, when the friezes of the temples presented in 
sculptured relief, accented by color, the history of civilization as far 
as it had then progressed. 

Mural decoration can, therefore, by these and other examples be 
proven to be the strongest expression after architecture — of which it 
is the indispensable adjunct — of democratic art: democratic or pop- 
ular, because the subjects which it has treated in the past in temple, 
church, town- and guild-hall, and which it must continue to treat in 



future, have a common interest; because, also, this form of decoration, 
rich, splendid and beautiful, is owned by the people; the expense of 
accomplishing it having been paid from public funds — from the 
sweat of the laborer more largely even than from tax levied upon the 
revenues of the millionaire. 

Nor can the objection be urged against mural decoration that its 
strongest appeal was made in periods of comparative popular igno- 
rance, and before the printing press began its propagation of the 
principles of liberty, equality and fraternity. The saying of Saint 
Augustine that pictures are the books of the people is as true to-day 
as when it was recorded in the fifth Christian century. Nor has the 
virtue departed from the fagades of the great mediaeval fabrics, like 
Notre Dame of Paris and Amiens, which Victor Hugo and Ruskin 
have described as the pictorial bibles of the people, whose access was 
easy at all times and to read which required the intervention of no 
learned clerk. Their use has simply been modified with time. It 
has developed with the people. Instead of being educative, it is 
now inspirational: precisely the quality needed in an age of material 
wealth and accomplishment. Obedient to a natural instinct, which 
development can never but modify to a limited degree, we receive the 
greater number and the strongest of our impressions through the 
vision. We read history, and our eye, wearied by the printed page, 
wanders about our environment and penetrates for its rest and gratifi- 
cation into the street, or the landscape beyond. The labor of the 
historian, endured for our sake, is rewarded according to the degree of 
mental concentration which we have acquired by discipline. The 
mural decorator sufifers no such involuntary injustice. His work is 
concrete. It appeals to the elemental man, as well as to the individual 
of the highest culture, or rather to the former never ceasing to exist 
within the latter. The style of the artist may be understood only by 
the critic, but the story developed upon the wall is plain for all eyes 
to read, whether the manner of telling it be realistic, like that of 
Abbey, sympathetic like that of Sargent, or primitive, suggestive, 
connoting instead of denoting, like that of Puvis de Chavannes, the 
Robert Browning of painters. The old axiom that seeing is believ- 
ing, and the story of the doubting apostle Thomas represent truths 
that can never lose their force. Many can testify from their own 
experience to the strong moralizing force of the old play, "Every- 
man," recently seen in this country, which may equally well be de- 



scribed as a sermon in action, or an animated mural painting. Con- 
crete lessons, educative for the children, inspirational for the mature, 
are demanded from democratic art: that is, from the decoration of 
those public buildings erected as houses of worship; as seats of gov- 
ernment, national, sectional or municipal; as educational or cultural 
institutions; as places of amusement and of paid hospitality. As the 
laws of Moses are graven on the walls of the synagogue, and recited 
in the ritual of the Episcopal Church, in order to keep the divine 
precepts in the very foreground of memory, so by the most direct 
means — that is, by mural picture, or relief — ought the persons and 
events representing the organization and development of nations and 
communities to be kept constantly before those who are actually, or 
who may be called to continue the work of their forefathers, as well as 
those who must constitute the passive jury of the active social and 
political elements. 

With this view, Mr. E. H. Blashfield, the noted decorative artist, 
was in accord when he wrote in his "Plea for Municipal Art," that few 
persons can grasp an abstract idea, while a visible, tangible image is 
easily understood. Finally, the same argument is further fortified by 
Mr. Shean's observation that, in an extended sense, mural decoration 
can never be the toy of a favored class, but is, on the contrary, depend- 
ent for existence upon popular support. 

THE points made by the same writer against the easel picture are 
equally well taken. This form of painting is, as he truly says, 
the only one recognized by a large class of persons who make 
it, one may add, an object of fetish worship. It is essentially an 
aristocratic form, placed, as to possession and enjoyment, beyond the 
reach of the many, and for that reason rendered more desirable to 
certain connoisseurs in whom the appreciation of art has degenerated 
into the mania to have and to hold, at the expense of the people's 

The easel picture, as is almost too well known to permit of com- 
ment, was, in its first stage, the altar piece, executed by some noted 
artist who was remunerated by a rich noble or burgher, anxious to 
beautify the sanctuary of his favorite church or convent chapel; ac- 
tuated sometimes by religious zeal, sometimes desirous to expiate a sin, 
but most often to obtain glory through his act of munificence. He 
delighted to see his own portrait joined with those of his wife and 



children, mingled with the personages of Bible history or Churchly 
legend. Further, the devout or luxurious layman demanded for his 
private oratory the exercise of the same talents which enriched church 
altars far beyond what could be done by the precious metals and 
jewels. In this way, the easel picture gained an entrance to the pri- 
vate palace and the costly burgher home, and was there welcomed to 
such a degree that when the mediaeval love of the symbolic merged 
into the love of beauty and display marking the Renascence, this 
aristocratic form of painting acted disastrously upon the democratic 
form, in so far as the public service of the latter was concerned. 
Then, gradually, mural decoration was withdrawn into the private 
palace; this movement beginning with Raphael himself and becom- 
ing stronger under the assuredly decadent School of Bologna, as is 
witnessed by the walls and ceilings of such lordly dwellings as the 
Roman Farnesina and Rospigliosi palaces. As was natural, the 
artists no longer treated vital themes. They rejected as irrelevant 
matter the story of man's redemption, or that of his labors as a builder 
of society, in order to deal with abstractions and allegories; realizing 
them in luxuriant, flowing outlines, and clothing them in the colors 
which most flatter and relax the retina, instead of toning it to efforts 
of appreciation. The splendor of ultra-marine, crimson and golden 
yellow appeared on the walls in great spots on which the eye rested, in- 
toxicated in sensuous delight. And here was no orchestration of 
color like that used by the Venetians in their great public edifices 
which might modify the demoralizing aesthetic effect. The hand- 
writing on the wall of Belshazzar's palace was no more significant 
and prophetic than are these contours and colors. Thev announce 
the evils following in the train of luxury and materialism: the two 
enemies of society who are wont to force art to conceal for a time the 
corruption and decay which they create. Centuries removed by 
thought, experience, development, are these mural decorations from 
those of Puvis de Chavannes, wherein the austere lines and the color- 
schemes are a powerful step in advance toward that simplification in 
art, as well as in life, which a surfeited world now demands. 

With the fall of democratic art, the easel picture grew more and 
more precious to its privileged possessor: one of the most exquisite of 
Raphael's Madonnas assuming, some hundred years ago, the name 
of the Grand Duke of Tuscany, since a bearer of that title so loved 
it as never to separate himself from it, even in his travels. And thus. 



in common with other masterpieces of art, it was excluded from the 
sight of the populace and the world at large, until the liberty-loving 
House of Savoy broke the tyranny of the Italian princes. 

But yet the easel picture proved its right to existence with the 
birth of the first masterpiece of Cimabue. The sole restriction to 
be put upon it is that it shall not absorb both talent and public wealth 
to the extent of starving democratic art. In a republic, each class of 
individuals, theoretically at least, has its peculiar rights, and it would 
be as absurd to wish to deny the rich a legitimate means of culture 
and pleasure, as it is unjust to deprive the moderately circumstanced 
and the poor of the educative and moralizing effect of historical fact 
and ethical principle presented to them in all the charm which line 
and color can lend them on the walls of places of public assembly. 
The figures of Brittany peasants introduced into the luxurious private 
gallery, or drawing room, carry with them the odor of the soil, which 
invigorates the pervading atmosphere of high culture. The million- 
aire, fixed with all the strength of material chains to his post of 
responsibility, often values his Corot, not because signed by the pow- 
erful hand of the master, but simply because its delicate harmonies of 
neutral colors, its perfect balance of composition, sing to him a song 
of Nature. In the broad modern world, especially in our own con- 
stantly developing country, there is abundant room for both forms of 
art — the private and the public — neither of which shall hinder or 
encroach upon the other. But it is imperative that the democratic 
spirit be not stifled. There is something yet more important in the 
furtherance of civic art than the motto adopted by the New York 
Society: "To make us love our city, we must make our city lovely." 
This thing of importance is to keep dramatically before the minds of 
the citizens the efifort, self-sacrifice and unity necessary to the mainte- 
nance of a commonwealth or community: a result to be attained only 
by means of a dignified civic art expressed in the decoration of public 
buildings. Let us learn a lesson from the city republics of Belgium, 
whose historical monuments, protected by the enlightened sovereign, 
are given over into the keeping of the commission of artists known as 
Uoeuvre nationale beige. Thus, every relic of the past centuries, 
every late occurrence tending to further patriotism is given promi- 
nence by the government. The burghers of Bruges, whose silted har- 
bor is now being excavated and cleared by engineers, can learn from 
the mural paintings of their town-hall that their commercial relations 



were once as wide as the world, and that, by the removal of the natural 
obstacle, they may again, on honorable terms, enter the markets of all 
nations. The citizen of Antwerp may, also, from the walls of his 
town-hall gather inspiration and incentive. He learns there of the 
recuperative energv of his own citv which, in spite of religious and 
political persecution, in spite of the tyranny of Spain and the jealousy 
of Holland, has gained and regained position and wealth. In study- 
ing both city and citizen, it would appear that the modern spirit of the 
town and the decorations of public buildings act and react upon 
one another, so that it is impossible to determine which of the two 
forces furnishes the stronger impulse to action. But it remains cer- 
tain that the story unfolded by the mural paintings of Baron Leys and 
his colleagues coincides with the reality of the forest of masts which 
rises stately in the broad roadstead of the Scheldt, exciting the fear of 
the City merchants of London, lest the old Flemish town win from 
the English capital some portion of her colonial trade. To sum up, 
it may be urged that the public art of these Belgian cities shows a 
relevancy of subject, a perfect preservation of racial and local tradi- 
tion, a thoroughness of system which the promoters of the same cause 
in our own country can not do better than remember, when advancing 
their ideas among the people, and when practically working out their 
schemes. Such a course is advocated by Mr. Shean when he takes as 
an illustration the Flower Library at Watertown, N. Y. ; when he 
suggests that the history of banking and exchange be displayed in 
simple, directlv expressed pictorial form upon the walls of counting- 
houses; that railway corporations relieve the restlessness of travelers 
by enlivening their waiting rooms with characteristic scenes chosen 
from the cities lying along the route to be followed, as has been done 
by the Paris, Lyons and Mediterranean Company, at their new Paris 
terminal. This last suggestion appears as one of especial timeliness, 
as we recall the waiting room of the Grand Central Station. New 
York, in which marbles and other rich materials are prominent, and 
there exists an absolute poverty of focal points of interest for the eye: 
an attempt at a frieze being made by the names of the minor cities of 
the State recorded in plain Roman letters. The same poverty of 
invention is found in the Station of an important inland city, on a line 
of the same railway system: in which case the decoration employed 
bears no relation to the place, and the waiting travelers are forced to 
confront an aggravating use of the Celtic dragon-knot, repeated ad 



nauseam in stained glass, in defiance to the surrounding archi- 
tecture, which is of debased classic type. 

AGAIN it may be said that if Mr. Shean's theories were to be 
AA realized in the United States they would make us possessors of 
cities and towns far better adapted than they are now for the 
living of pleasurable, useful, progressive lives, of which good morals, 
good citizenship and good art should be the vitalizing principles. 
But vet, after the manner of enthusiasts and the holders of a fixed 
purpose, our writer perhaps advances a step too far when he judges 
that "the Congressional Library at Washington, beautiful as it is, and 
technically excellent as are its paintings, unpleasantly suggests a build- 
ing given over to a group of talented and learned foreigners who have 
skilfully shown us how the storehouse for our national collection of 
books can be made attractive." And again, when he censures the sub- 
jects of the mural decorations of the Boston Public Library as offering 
no allusion to the brilliant group of nineteenth centur\' writers who 
made Massachusetts and its capital cit\' famous in literature. 

Against these strictures it may be advanced that the commissions 
of both great libraries in choosing the themes of decoration — one of 
the most important of their tasks, if moral effect be considered — 
merged patriotism into cosmopolitanism. Both edifices are reposi- 
tories of the world's treasures of thought, and only the highest, the 
most epoch-making attainments should there receive recognition. 
The exquisite embodiments of the spirit of English literature at Wash- 
ington are surely to be accepted by us, since our speech is but a branch 
of a mighty river, penetrating into a late-discovered continent. Sup- 
port upon the same basis may be given to the harmonious abstractions 
of Puvis de Chavannes, to the vigorous syntheses of Sargent in the 
Boston Library; while no more fitting theme could have been chosen 
for the decorative scheme of the delivery-room of the same institution 
than the "Quest of the Holy Grail," which teaches more clearly than 
by words — that is, by picture-writing — the course inevitable to the 
seeker after knowledge: the consecration, the hard toil, the hesitancy, 
the bitter rebuff, the renunciation, and the Heavenly Vision. All this 
it would seem is the fulfilment of the promise made at the entrance of 
the Library by the guardian figures bearing torches and unfurling a 
scroll on which allusion is made to knowledge as "The Light of all 



STOOD beneath the dazzling blue sky of New Mexico. 
Around me rose the white walls of the Indian pueblo, La- 
guna. The Indian women were returning from the railroad, 
whither they had gone to sell their pottery to the passengers 
of the Santa Fe. I watched them as they trod the rocky trail 
in single file. It seemed impossible to believe that this bright 
bit of picturesque life was American. The brilliancy, and indeed the 
whole suggestiveness of the scene was oriental. The women carried 
earthen jars upon their heads and trays of smaller ware in their hands. 
Their skirts were short above the knee, and their legs were heavily 
swathed in buckskin: a time-honored protection against reptile and 
cactus. Over the head was thrown a bright shawl which hung to the 
bottom of the short skirt like a mantle. 

The people of Laguna came early under Spanish influence and 
have been nominally Christian for three hundred years. But the 
Indian has woven into the Roman Catholic faith the bright strands 
of native custom and belief. For the old rain-dances are still held on 
the plaza, even before the square church. But what the Spaniard 
failed to do, the American is now accomplishing, the stamping out of 
"all things Indian": the deliberate crushing of every spark of native 
pride, the killing of a people's aspiration toward the good, the true 
and the beautiful in any direction other than the Anglo-Saxon. 

I knew and loved the Indians of the Hopi pueblos in Arizona: a 
refined and gentle folk, as full of instinctive courtesy as the Japanese. 
I found their music and poetry to be of a high order of develop- 
ment. I had come to Laguna to observe how far the music of 
the Mexican pueblos was tinged with Spanish influence. I had hoped 
that these people, like the Hopis, would sing as they left their village 
in wagons to load wood, or as they returned from a day's work in the 
fi.elds. But alas, the spirit of this pueblo seemed crushed. The poet 
is a day-laborer on the railroad, the potter makes cheap cups to sell 
to the tourist. Art, the expression of man's joy in his work, as William 
Morris has it, is fast fading away, and the natural utterance of a 
healthy people, the unconscious burst of song, is almost stilled. More 
and more do the lives of these Indians become silent and colorless. 
The sun was bright, but my thoughts were shadowed. Was there. 



then, no spontaneous bit of music to be heard among these people? 

Suddenly a voice rose high and clear, and at the same time I 
caught the rhythmic scraping sound of the grinding-stone. Some 
woman near at hand was grinding corn and singing at her work. It 
is the custom of the pueblo Indians to grind the corn between two 
great stones. One is a slab which is set into the grinding-trough at a 
slight angle. The other, cube-like, is rubbed by the grinder up and 
down over the corn upon the understone, with much the same motion 
that we use in rubbing clothes upon a washboard. The grinding- 
troughs, two, and sometimes three in number, are set into the floor of 
the house. They are simply square frames to hold the understone, 
with gutters on each side of the stone and at the base, for the scooping 
up of the corn, and as a receptacle for the ground particles. 

As the women grind, with rhythmic swing, they sing. And the 
sweet, unusual melodies with the high scraping accompaniment of 
the grinding, make a music as phantom-strange to unaccustomed ears 
as are, to the eye, the lilac mountain-peaks and tinted desert wastes of 
New Mexico. 

The voice sang on and I turned to seek it. I made my way 
through the little street with its terraces of roofs. The song seemed 
to come from the upper section of a square white house. Led by the 
sound I climbed a ladder to the roof of the first story, which was at 
once the floor and balcony of the second. At my coming the song 
ceased, and instead I heard a rapid whisper: "Aico! Aico!" (American, 
American). I paused at the open door of this upper chamber that 
led upon the roof. Outside all was blue sky. Within were cool- 
ness, emptiness, bare whitewashed walls. Two pueblo women knelt 
at the grinding troughs; the younger grinding the corn to finest pow- 
der, the elder sifting the ground meal through a sieve. They laughed 
shyly as I entered and sat down with them. 

Who was the singer? At the question the elder pointed to the 
girl at the grinding-trough. The maiden flashed a smile as I asked 
her to repeat the song. Silently she bent over her work. A few swift 
sweeps of the grinding-stone and then, as though born of the rhythm, 
the clear voice rose once more. 

As the girl swayed oVer her work, her glossy black hair hung 
straight before her face, shielding her sweet shyness from the strang- 
er. These women part the hair across the middle of the head, tying 
it behind with a woven band, and allowing the front part to grow so 



long that, unless swept to one side and twisted behind the ear, as is 
the custom, it would fall over the face to the chin. 

The girl paused at the end of her song, and laughed softly behind 
her loosened locks. 

"Tell me what the song means," I said, turning to the elder wo- 
man, who had been to school and spoke English. 

The two conferred together in their own tongue, then sought to 
tell me of their song. 

"It is about the water in the rocks," said the elder. "After rain 
the water stands in the rocks, and it is good fresh water — medicine 
water. And in the song we say: 'Look to the southwest, look to the 
southeast! The clouds are coming toward the spring; the clouds will 
bring the water.' You see, we usually get our rains from the south- 
west and the southeast. That is the meaning of the song; but it is 
hard to tell in English," she faltered. 

Then again the maiden sang. 

"And this song is about the butterflies, blue and red and yellow 
and white, telling them to fly to the flowers. At the end of the song 
we say to the butterflies : 'Go, butterfly, now go, for that is all !' " 

Then said I : "I shall write these songs on paper, just as you have 
seen songs written in books in the schools. Then people will know 
that Indian songs are beautiful, and the songs will never wholly be 
lost, or forgotten." 

The girl's eyes grew large. But the elder woman said slowly: 
"Many songs are forgotten. Our people do not sing as they used. 
I do not hear the songs I heard before I went to school." 

"And these songs you have sung for me, are they new?" I asked. 

"No, they are old," she answered. "The words are old words, 
words we do not use in talking now. I heard these songs when I 
was little. I think they must be very old." 

"Do not forget them," I said, "and teach them to your children!" 

But the woman only gazed before her, dull and sad. 

What use, indeed, in the face of the crushing present to preserve 
anything of the past for a lustreless and alien future? 

But my heart held the hope that these songs, reverently recorded, 
might one day be given back to their original creators by Americans 
who will find some beauty in the true life of a people whom we strive 
to educate, but never seek to know. 




No. I 



h^l^i j^ l ^^l^j f^ l N M r\ 

J ^thj * * 



^ — — — O — *-d- 

I — o — ho wQi tiL-an-rti I — o — ho v^ai til-an— ni 

,^^h M h h 







# # 1 J # 



' ^-^-^ 'S » 

Izi wti-sho I — yci-m — I be ^e ye ^u->Meh pum — a — ko — e 



^,!J>JH^J' I J^^ 




ko— li— ka ;yu-weh bami— ci — ko — e ko-Li— ka tzi wa-^Wo t-yri-ni 

-';>^hv l J>HMi'nTWl^J^J 

* U^ / I ^ 

le ^e ^e I— o- 

-bo wai — til-on- 


1 — o — U 

o wtn. I- 








tzi v*tt-sbo-i — >^a— ni — i he ^e ^e b» /• ye 


I-o-ho, medicine water, 
I-o-ho, medicine water, 
What life now! 
Yonder southwest, 
Yonder southeast. 
What life now! 
I-o-ho, medicine water, 
I-o-ho, medicine water. 
What life now! 

Medicine Water, good fresh water from hollows in the rocks. What life noiu! life and health 
from drinking this water. Yonder southiuest, yonder southeast, directions from which the rains 
usually come. Meaning of the passage: "Look southwest, look southeast! The clouds are coming 
toward the spring, bringing water." 





No. 2 



U #^ I 


^' kL 

' » 

# / l# 



-Lai oa po ho- 




-na hcii-ke-o-izi o no— ho ko-ho- 

chi n\ sill 


-esh Ug — SI hoi ke-o-tzi o no— ho ku- 



at'ii^i ' i^ai^j^ i i: 



kci-ni — sbi ka 


:: ^ *^W^ 

she — shi hoi-ke o-tii o- 



^~^v^ L 1 «*J 






-r7o— ho ha— na pu-ra — ni — 






tai— na po-nc 

-Lai na hoi-Ke-o-tzi o no — bo 


Ql^jUjj I JIJIJ. I J I JJ^ 



ha— na pu. — ra— ni- 

-he ^e [76 ye- 

9- 0- 
-he i/e 



be se- 


-he ve 




Butterflies, butterflies, 
Fly to the blossoms, 


Fly to the blossoms, 


Fly to the blossoms — 

Butterflies, butterflies, 
Fly to the blossoms — 


These songs were translated for me by different Indians, and the 
translations compared and submitted to one who knows the language 
of Laguna. Yet, as I am no authority upon these Indians or their 
language, I cannot claim that my work is without error. 

The first of the songs seems to be very old. Some of the words 
are archaic. I give the translation and also the explanation furnished 
me by the Indians. For Indian poetry, like all branches of Indian 
art, is symbolic. Just as a few lines in a design on jug or basket often 
stand for a thought, instead of representing an object; so one word in 
a poem may be the symbol of a complete idea, which, to the stranger 
who does not know the song-code, as it were, must ever be a door 
without a key. It is interesting to note that for this reason a song may 
oftenbe interpreted variously by different Indians. For instance, the 
second song, the colors mentioned were said by one Indian to refer 
to the different colored corn over which the butterflies should fly. 
For Indian corn in this region is many-colored: glaring pink, bright 
red, deep blue, orange, yellow, black, white, purple and brightly 
spotted. Many songs, therefore, refer to the corn simply by color. 
But an old and authoritative Indian asserted positively that this song 
had nothing to do with corn : that it was all about butterflies, and that 
the butterflies were to fly to flower-blossoms, not to corn-fields. 

Of course, slight variations in the melodic contour of the song are 
to be expected, when there is no notation and the songs, as one Indian 
expressed it with graphic gestures, are held, not on paper as with us, 
but "all in the head." 

I give the versions which, by careful comparison, seem most cor- 



rect. and which were afterwards sung for me by a very old woman, the 
wife of the medicine-man. The quavering voice of three score years 
and ten had the ring of old time authority. How often had she sung 
thus at her grinding in all these many years! 

To understand the first song it must be remembered that the need 
of all pueblo Indians is rain. They are an agricultural people who 
live in desert lands. Even though the pueblos of New Mexico are 
near the Rio Grande, and are further aided by an ancient and very 
adequate system of irrigation, the cry for rain is still expressed in song 
and dance. When the welcome waters fall, thev are caught in hol- 
lows in rocks, the primitive reservoirs of nature. From this song it 
would seem that such water is, or was, prized by the Laguna Indians 
as particularly healthful and life-giving. 

These songs reflect the thought and the daily life of a people, and 
are thus real folk-music. Their simple poetry and perfect purity are 
characteristic of all the Indian songs that I know. Their charm is 
unique, and the strange, graceful melodies will appeal not only to 
those who love music, but to all who rejoice in the thought that in our 
country there is still an art born naturally and simply of "man's joy 
in his work." 

'' I ^HE pastoral stage was pre-eminently the play period 
■^ of the race. On equally good grounds it may be 
called the period in which art made rapid development. 
Human culture had not advanced sufficiently to secure a 
clear differentiation between art and play. Neither was 
there any well-defined boundary between work and 
play. Now, an activity is more like work, in a moment 
it is more like play, and again it is art, or, possibly, all 
three at the same time. 





S ONE earnestly devoted to a movement in which I have 
the utmost faith, and to which I have given the best of 
my life and energies, I am emboldened to advance cer- 
tain arguments which I believe to be sane and tenable. 
This I have chosen to do at a milestone of my efforts : that 
is, on the anniversary of the birth of The Craftsman, in 
which, for three years, I have endeavored to express my personal, spe- 
cific views — often laboring under the difficulty of fitting a first concep- 
tion to a tangible, practical reality. 

The plea which I am about to make is one for simplicity in all that 
pertains to the environment of material life under a democracy, where 
practically all work with either hand or brain ; the leisure class being 
reduced to a minimum. 

I was led to my present position of thought by my observations and 
experiences as a cabinetmaker, arriving at many of the conclusions of 
William Morris, but reaching them from a direction opposite to the 
one taken by that great benefactor of society, who was first a thinker 
and afterward a craftsman. For while I advanced slowly from the 
fact to the principle underlying the fact, he reasoned broadly from the 
cause to the efifect. 

At first, in obedience to the public demand, I produced in my 
workshops adaptations of the historic styles, but always under silent 
protest: my opposition developing, as I believe, out of a course of 
reading, largely from Ruskin and Emerson, which I followed in my 
early youth. More and more did I resent these imitations which, 
multiplied to infinity, could not preserve a spark of the spirit, the 
vivacity, the grace of their originals. Yet even this lack of life was 
not for me their gravest defect. As I saw them growing beneath the 
hands of my workmen and afterward displayed in the shops, they did 
not appear to me more out of place in these, their temporary surround- 
ings, than they did in their final destination, the homes of the people. 
Everything was there against them. They fitted into no scheme of 
life, or of decorative art capable of being realized by the persons who 
had acquired them. Sometimes, indeed, a pretentious, scenic back- 
ground was prepared for them, but in such cases with what seemed to 
me a pitiable result of unreality. They had the air of being placed 



upon a stage, and of awaiting the use and occupancy of persons who, 
in rented costumes and under assumed names, should recite studied 

My impression deepened into a conviction after a European jour- 
ney which I made in the interests of my craft. Then, for the first time, 
I saw the French styles in their proper surroundings, acting as integral 
parts of palace architecture, as at Versailles; as well as these and all 
other historical types arranged in their proper sequence at South 
Kensington, precisely as specimens once having had organic life, are 
classified in a Museum of Natural History. 

In presence of these visible objects, the course which I had long 
wished to follow, shaped itself clearly before me. I returned home 
strong in my new faith. I reasoned that as each period is marked by 
some definite accomplishment or characteristic, so each period must 
also have its peculiar art ; since it is art that holds the mirror up to life 
and catches its perfect reflection. 

In France I had seen a republic attempting to patch with a work- 
man's blouse the old rents made in the web of society by monarchies 
and empires. In England I had witnessed everywhere the power of 
the middle classes, in comparison with which the effete nobility 
appeared as a relic of the past, a pageant as antiquated as the Lord 
Mayor's Show. In America, as I looked about me with a clearer, 
keener vision than ever before, I recognized that the salvation of the 
country lay also with the workers, rather than with the possessors of 
hereditary culture, or of immense wealth and the power attendant 
upon it. I realized that the twentieth century, then a few years dis- 
tant, was to be, like the thirteenth, distinctively an Age of the People. 
Then the judgment — justified by facts — of a certain critic, upon the 
work of William Morris, rose in my mind with the compelling force 
of a battle cry: "He changed the look of half the houses in London, 
and substituted beauty for ugliness all over the kingdom." 

This statement assumed for me the character of a revelation in 
which the socialism of the reformer clothed itself in a mild, beneficent 
aspect, expressing the true meaning of the word; becoming a work 
pursued peacefullv for the good of his fellows: a socialism of art — art 
made homely and brought within the reach of all. 

I resolved to make a radical change in the productions of my own 
workshops, and not to be deflected from my adopted purpose by either 
obstacle or disappointment. 



In making preparations for my new departure, I found others 
setting out with objects similar to my own. This was to be expected, 
since the germs of revolution never concentrate in a single locality or 
a single brain. Reform was in the air, seeking soils favorable to its 

I resolved to join no factional band, however companionable it 
might be, in whose members the cause had generated that heat of 
enthusiasm which is all too liable to produce abortive efiforts. I fur- 
ther resolved that I would never again be an imitator, and I set my 
face toward absolute radicalism. At that time, the revulsion toward 
simplicity created in America the so-called Dutch, Tyrolean peasant, 
and Mission styles; while from the other side of the Atlantic ripples 
of influence reached us: from France, Belgium, and from Japan as 
misunderstood by the Europeans. The shop windows of our large 
cities began to display ill-assorted collections of cabinet-making, rang- 
ing from the heavy to the fragile; in many cases showing no under- 
standing on the part of their designer of the physical qualities of the 
material used; since bamboo was translated into wood, and attempts 
were made to render the delicate pliableness of plant-stems in a hard, 
resisting medium. 

In these collections I saw plain evidences of anarchy, instead of 
an impulse toward reform. If such examples showed the marks of 
their release from the rule of the historic styles, they had effected but 
an exchange of tyrants. They had bartered the tyranny of order for 
the tyranny of chaos. The modern movement, lacking concentration, 
squandering its energies upon new imitations, was in danger of defeat 
and annihilation. 

I began to seek remedial measures for adoption in my own work- 
shops. As I thought more closely upon this subject, most important 
to me; as I studied from both practical and historical points of view, 
I became convinced that the designers of cabinet-making used their 
eyes and their memories too freely and their reasoning powers too 
little. Studying their methods closely, I saw their hands mechan- 
ically tracing upon drawing paper familiar lines which recurred to 
them when they formed the mental picture of a chair or table. For 
the most part, they too indolently accepted tradition. They did not 
question or think. 

By this means of observation, I was led to the only course of action 
in which I saw development for myself and future good for my work- 











O D 

< 5 

— h 

5 « 

O D 

Qi Q 

fc. z 

° !^ 


0- :^ 

< < 


o. z 

0- < 

U ai 









men. I cast aside my traditions, forgot the formulas which I had 
learned years previously, and began to study structural principles; 
finding them, as I proceeded, the same in architecture, as in the lesser 
building art of cabinet-making. From the careful examination of 
the Gothic cathedral I first learned thoroughly the relations between 
construction and decoration: finding the best examples of the great 
mediaeval style adequately ornamented by features, which, like the 
flying buttress, gave them strength and support; finding also the de- 
cadence of the art in later specimens wherein these same features were 
allowed to exceed their functions, and decoration, like a parasitic 
plant, spread over the fabric to sap and undermine its foundations. 

I thus clearly recognized the dangers of applied ornament and 
advanced a step from which I have never retrograded. I endeavored 
to turn such structural devices as the mortise and tenon to ornamental 
use ; to employ them in such a way as to force them to give accent and 
variety to the outlines of the objects in which they occurred. 

This lesson of constructive versus applied ornament, derived from 
the Gothic, was supplemented by one of another and vet allied nature, 
which I found awaiting me in classic architecture. The Greek tem- 
ples revealed themselves to me as the plainest examples of the struct- 
ural style. Their plan is a concept of the primitive man, and, even 
in their most advanced stage of development, the timber construction, 
so to speak, is never obscured. The columns, with their fluted shafts, 
recall more vividly than words can do, the boles of forest trees with 
their grooved bark. The frieze, with its alternate ornamental mark- 
ings of vertical lines and circles, is but an allusion to the first type of 
temple, when planks, set on edge, and tree-trunks were hastily assem- 
bled to form a sheltering roof over the god, the treasure and the wor- 
shipers. In these edifices, however late the period of their erection, 
the structural quality is never lost, never even greatly obscured to the 
eye. The principle of construction involved is a question of weight 
and mass, and from its skilful treatment results a whole, simple enough 
to be included in a single glance and conveying an impression of 
harmony and repose. To sum up, one may say that these buildings, 
accepted as types of beauty by many centuries and civilizations, were 
primitive — almost crude in plan; that in them the structural idea 
persisted to the end, clear and dominant; that they were developed 
and embellished by subtile modifications of line, by the use of beau- 
tiful color and diversified material, by ornament arising from neces- 



sities of construction and appearing therefore spontaneous and fitting. 

Fortified by this second object lesson, I determined to adhere 
strictly to simplicity of plan; to express construction frankly; above 
all, to be modern : a resolution which here requires a word of explana- 
tion. In order to illustrate my meaning, I will take the example of 
a bed. This object, when modeled for decorative effect, I often saw 
raised on a dais and surrounded by heavy draperies; both of which 
features are relics of a past time serving no useful end, and being 
opposed to advanced ideas of cleanliness and health. They formerly 
protected the bed from cold and dampness; isolating it from its sur- 
roundings and creating a focal point of comfort and warmth. His- 
torically, it is interesting to trace the development of this idea of iso- 
lation from the cupboard beds of the Brittany peasants up to the great 
couches of the French monarchs. But the idea has lost its practical 
value and the devices have no longer a reason for being. The modern 
bed, on the contrary, should be constructed with a recognition of the 
necessity of pure air and of the curative power of sunlight. 

The principle of this extreme example I found paralleled in the 
greater part of objects modeled after old types. For this reason I 
came to regard with distrust any design which suggested historical 
development. I sought structural qualities only; choosing rather to 
be reproached — although justly — for crudity, rather than to set out 
upon a path which could lead nowhere but to the old commonplaces, 
even though the way should be long and circuitous. But this crudity, 
as in the case of the temple construction, I regarded as a mere point 
of departure from which to develop in certain legitimate directions. 

Having now thoroughly assimilated my two lessons: the one re- 
lating to plan, the other bearing upon the relations of structure to 
ornament, I recognized that I had made real progress in my efforts, 
while I also realized the seriousness of the difficulties which yet lay 
before me. But I did not falter or waver. The very crudity of my 
structural plan, as I apprehended it, was to me a proof of its vital 
power, as well as of a promise of progress, because formlessness never 
follows hard upon crudeness; because also decadence is the natural 
sequence of over-refinement. 

The greatest of the problems next demanding my attention was 
how I might afford gratification to the eye, while remaining faithful 
to my newly adopted structural principles. I felt that the solution 
of this question lay largely in the proper use of color, but the means 



to attain this end were not ready to my hand. They awaited develop- 
ment, which was tentative and slow, owing to reasons which I shall 

As a cabinet-maker, I was bound to obtain my color-effects largely 
from wood, aided in some instances by leather and textiles: all of 
which materials had yet to be adjusted to my structural scheme and 
thereupon dependent ideas of decoration. 

As an American by birth, I chose to work with native growths. 
I felt the possibilities of our forest products to be great, and I wished 
to experiment with them; following a desire as spontaneous as that 
obeyed by the East Indian who carves into designs like wrought iron 
his heavy, close-grained teak-wood. To speak with all modesty, I 
determined to treat my chief material by an educative process: in 
other words, to draw out in it all the potential qualities which I knew 
it to possess. 

One thing I had greatly in my favor. My structural lines made 
no demands upon the wood which it was not able to meet. They 
emphasized growth and grain, instead of thwarting them at every 
turn. They showed that the material was cut and suggested no idea of 
molding, which should be left to the metal worker. But in order fully 
to accomplish my object, a long series of experiments confronted me, 
which now, at the end of several years, I count as only fairly begun. 
Still, within a comparatively short time, I gained results which more 
than encouraged me. Through the careful preservation of grain and 
the development of surface qualities, there resulted beauties which 
softened the asperities of my outlines: arresting the eye and thereby 
preventing it from a too rapid seizure of the structural scheme of 
small objects; by the same means, also, prolonging the interest of the 
observer and the gratification of his sense of sight. The woods, so 
treated, invited upon their surface a constant play of light and shade, 
infinite and never repeated, in studying which I experienced a pre- 
viously unknown delight, made up of reminiscences of the forest and of 
pictures of masters. Encouraged, or rather inspired by this success, 
I resolved to limit myself to the use of such woods as lay nearest to 
my use. and to devote much of my energy to expand their qualities and 
heighten their value. At the same time, my antipathy increased 
toward the glazes which conceal and obliterate the exquisite work of 
Nature ; actually violating the substances created by the Divine Intel- 
ligence and perfected by cycles of years. I realized that the cabinet- 



maker should receive his material reverently and touch it but to reveal 
and continue the mysterious and beautiful operations begun in secret, 
when the wood was yet a living tree. 

Having arrived at this point of my labors, I saw attractive 
glimpses of a path far beyond. My thoughts rose from the lesser to 
the greater of the building arts. I realized that, in our country, new 
materials await use and new thoughts development. A youthful en- 
thusiasm for my expanded scheme possessed me, and I reasoned as a 
moment of exaltation might permit: 

"Since the genius of the American is structural, as is proven by 
his government, his control of natural resources, his mastery of 
finance, let the building art — the lesser as well as the greater — provide 
him with surroundings in which he shall see his own powers reflected. 
In the appointments of his dwelling, let the structural idea be domi- 
nant, and the materials employed be, as far as is possible, native pro- 
ducts, in order that the scheme may be unified and typical — above all, 

My enthusiasm remained with me, lapsing into a steady courage 
which tided me over all disappointments. I felt that I was serving 
the people, in company with many others in various walks of life 
whom I saw preaching, teaching and practising what I venture to call 
the gospel of simplicity. In speaking thus strongly, I trust that I 
shall not be censured as one who over-estimates his own ability, or yet 
as narrow-minded and wishing to establish one standard of life and 
art for all sorts and conditions of men. I recognize individuality, the 
direction given to thought and taste by specific education, the influ- 
ences exerted by high culture: I admit all these to be beneficial to 
society. I furthermore acknowledge that luxury and simplicity are 
comparative, rather than absolute terms, and that they must be judged 
with the care and seriousness demanded by a question of law. I de- 
sire to make clear that I am not constituting myself a critic, or arbiter; 
that I do not question the conduct or the aestheticism of those whose 
training, accompanied by wealth, permits them to choose and acquire 
beautiful objects which, rich in suggestiveness — both artistic and his- 
toric — increase for their possessors the pleasures of life. Such per- 
sons as these, it is unnecessary to say, are outside the circle of my 
observation and beyond the need of service other than their own. 
They constitute a favored minority. They are cosmopolites in the 















> re "^ 

r ^ -" 

tl, n^ — 

C CO C3 

' OS ■? 

as fe ^ 

O ^ r 












true sense — citizens of the world — and entitled from their experience 
to hold broad views of art and life. 

But they in whose interest I make my plea for a democratic house- 
hold art, constitute the majority of our American people. They are 
the busy workers, "troubled about many things :" professional people ; 
men and women of business; toilers who reach out after objects of 
beauty and refinement, as if they were the flowers of a "Paradise 
Lost." They are the real Americans, deserving the dignity of this 
name, since they must always provide the brawn and sinew of the 
nation. They are the great middle classes, possessed of moderate cul- 
ture and moderate material resources, modest in schemes and action, 
average in all but in virtues. Called upon to meet stern issues, they 
have remaining little leisure in which to study problems of other and 
milder nature. But as offering such great and constant service, these 
same middle classes should be the objects of solicitude in all that 
makes for their comfort, their pleasure and mental development. For 
them art should not be allowed to remain as a subject of consideration 
for critics. It should be brought to their homes and become for them 
a part and parcel of their daily lives. A simple, democratic art 
should provide them with material surroundings conducive to plain 
living and high thinking, to the development of the sense of order, 
symmetry and proportion. 

This plea is certainly inspired by a practical idea, for aesthetic 
influences are daily gaining wider recognition as factors of usefulness. 
It is acknowledged that form and color appeal to the senses with 
imperious force, which is the more compelling because of its very 
silence. Words are forgotten in their rapid succession; the impres- 
sion of personal contact wears away; but a significance exists in the 
individuality of material things which is comparable with human 
character. We are brought into daily relations with people whom 
we feel to be honest, inspiring, depressing, or dangerous. Their 
influences upon us are inexplicable and subtile, but yet they direct and 
compel us toward good or evil. They give us pleasure or pain. It 
is the same with material things. To illustrate the influence of struct- 
ural form, we have but to revert to the two great examples which I 
have already used : the Gothic architecture, with its pyramidal effects, 
uplifts us and sweeps us away, as it were with a flame of enthusiasm; 
the Greek, on the contrary, settles us in our surroundings with a feel- 
ing of reliance and ease, as we note the harmony, the delicate balance, 



created by its verticals and horizontals. It matters not whether these 
principles are shown in large or in small, in open-air, or in interior 
architecture. Indeed, the small things are always with us, they are 
our constant companions, not too good for "human nature's daily 
food," and, therefore, we are subject to them. Non-structural ob- 
jects, those whose forms present a chaos of lines which the eye can 
follow only lazily or hopelessly, should be swept out from the dwell- 
ings of the people, since, in the mental world, they are the same as 
volcanoes and earthquakes in the world of matter. They are creators 
of disorder and destruction. The shapes of things surrounding the 
workingmembers of society should carry ideas of stability and sym- 
metry in order to induce a correspondence of thought in those to 
whose eyes they present themselves. They should not picture the 
world in a state of flux. 

The tranquil environment demanded by work and thought, and 
supplied by art is admirably exemplified in the mural painting of 
Puvis de Chavannes, in the amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, where the 
figure of the lecturer, projected against the straight, slender boles of 
the trees of the Sacred Wood assumes the charm of mystery and thus 
makes willing listeners of the students. 

In taking leave of this branch of my subject I can not too strongly 
insist upon the influence of material form over mental mood, as inspir- 
ing hope, courage, good humor and their attendants, or, on the con- 
trary, as generating the opposites of these lubricators of the wheels of 
life. I insist that the people and, above all, the children of the people, 
should be afiforded the advantages of a democratic art: one that should 
insure the comfort and the beauty of their homes and by this means 
decrease the resistance which they unconsciously make against their 
surroundings. To accomplish this much-to-be-desired end, the school 
and the workshop must unite their forces. The public schools must 
teach art practically: analyzing form and structure, treating them for 
their own sakes, and not as matters of historical development. The 
workshop must give the practical demonstration of these principles in 
the products which they send out, and thus an educative process will be 
furthered which, in the end, can not fail to create a public as sound in 
judgment, as just in criticism, as were the Greeks, the Florentines, the 
French, German and Flemish burghers of the Middle Ages: a result 
inevitable in any country or period in which art is truly democratic. 

But I must not omit to add an earnest plea for the education of the 



color-sense, as yet undeveloped to a regrettable degree among the 
people. This sense it is which makes the poor man rich to abund- 
ance; for riches, rightly understood, are but the possession of the fac- 
ulty for enjoyment. The eye to be soothed, or to be excited to 
pleasure, has but to turn to the outside world. It is thence that the art 
which seeks to be educative, must draw its lesson, rather than from the 
secondary sources provided by the sciences of physics and chemistry. 
And once again for a precedent we must turn to Puvis de Chavannes, 
whose retina was said to be developed beyond that of any other known 
individual of the nineteenth century. For that reason his color-com- 
binations appeal less strongly to the eye of the peasant than those of 
the other modern French masters of decoration. But in his selections 
the teachings of Nature may be read as in an open book. His dark 
verdure-tones, so prominent wherever he laid his hand to a wall, 
repeat the intention of the Universal Mother, who clothed the trees in 
that same color, that they might soothe the tired human eye and brain 
with what a great Italian has named their "divine green silence." 
The air-blues of M. Puvis are those which the Greeks did not 
recognize as color, since they regarded them as atmospheric effects due 
to mass and density, rather than to inherent quality. His violets are 
such tones as pass absolutely unnoticed by the infant and the savage 
who, at the sight of reds, are provoked to laughter and seized with 
the desire of possession. 

By this illustration I have sought to explain to how great a degree I 
believe the success of democratic art is dependent upon the educative 
use of color. And further, as a proof of the sound basis of my belief, 
I will point once more to William Morris, whose revolution in deco- 
rative art, regenerating not only England, but the world, was success- 
ful largely through his refined use of the gamut of color-notes. Re- 
finement in the specific sense, like that shown by Morris and Puvis, is 
urgentlv demanded among us for the advancement of art, and the 
more complex refinement of the English craftsman will be, perhaps, 
the better guide, until we shall have simplified our vision sufficiently 
to enjoy the primitive refinement of the French painter. But let the 
work be hastened! Vulgarity in color cries out with strident voice 
from public and private interiors, from the workshop, and the window 
of the merchant. To substitute for this harshness the clear, pure note 
of a beneficent, sympathetic and truly democratic art should be the 
strenuous purpose alike of artists, educators and producers. 



IT may appear that I have abandoned the plain tale of my experi- 
ences to wander widely in the field of speculation. But in so 

doing I have sought only to indicate the benefit which personally 
I have derived from my self-appointed lessons, and to express my 
belief that were the principles underlying them dififused among the 
people, they would accomplish much moral and aesthetic good. I 
may further acknowledge that this very desire led me to found The 
Craftsman, in October, 1901, when my experiments in my own craft 
had reached a stage of development which permitted me a degree of 
leisure. As I set myself to prepare the initial number, it seemed most 
fitting to me that this should be devoted to William Morris, whose 
example of courage in radical and lonely experiment had sustained 
me through the trials of my modest undertaking. Therefore, this 
number appeared as practically a monograph dealing with the patron 
saint of "integral education" from the different points of view of art, 
socialism, business afifairs and friendship. By this publication I 
sought to honor an abstract principle in which I was interested to 
the limit of my energies and resources, as well as to pay homage to 
one of the strongest Anglo-Saxon heroes of the nineteenth century. 

In the succeeding number it remained for me to satisfy the claims 
of a more personal and intimate gratitude. I therefore devoted the 
second issue to an appreciation of John Ruskin, the writer whose exal- 
tation, or rather, divine madness, awakened within me, in the days of 
my early youth, ambitions to which I have never proved recreant. 

Having liquidated these moral debts, I felt myself free to proceed 
to develop the magazine from a monograph to a periodical composed 
of writings which, while diversified in both subject and treatment, 
should yet ofifer a consistent, unified whole; which should teach the 
lessons, in my judgment so desirable to propagate, without trace of 
fatiguing pedantry. This scheme I found difficult to realize, and my 
new enterprise, although one of my most cherished undertakings, 
weighed heavily upon me. For while, in my craft-experiments, my 
work and myself were the only factors with which I had to deal, I had 
here to struggle with the unknown quantity of the public. But indi- 
cations quickly proved to me that my premises were correct ones, and 
that I was again advancing, although with necessary slowness, to the 
solution of another self-set problem. Worthy exponents of modern 
thought and of the new art acknowledged the sincerity of my efforts 
by offering to lend their names and pens to the columns of The Crafts- 









« 4 
fjj o 

a ^ 

■ <! = 

X ^ 
< t/1 







J5 -B 

^ ■= 

PS 3 

fc. -5 

w 'S 

(-1 'C 

ft, ." 

< " 

< - 

u t; 

o « 

o _ 

/^ S 





•'* ^' ' ' ' 


man; while the press and the public were quick to apprehend the 
trend of my labor as an aspiration toward a democratic art. Espe- 
cially may this be said of numerous eminent educators who have aided 
me with their wise counsel, as well as of artists in general, and of the 
officers of public and private cultural societies, one of whom, as a 
labor inspired by enthusiasm and friendliness, prepared the scheme for 
the articles upon certain phases of municipal art, begun in the issue of 
January, 1904, and to be continued until the end of the year. 

A discussion of the wilful and somewhat dangerous tendencies 
shown by the modern decorative art of the continent, opened early in 
the life of the magazine by Professor Hamlin of the architectural 
department of Columbia University, attracted much attention abroad ; 
the very sponsor of the term "L'Art Nouveau," M. S. Bing of Paris, 
deeming the arguments published of sufficient weight to demand his 
own explanation of the origin and significance of the movement. 

Upon occasion, liberal space has been devoted to illustrations and 
descriptions of the smaller and finer objects of industrial art; as, for 
example, the jewelry of M. Rene Lalique, who by force of his genius, 
has placed himself among the first artists of France, and whose pro- 
ductions are honored in the Gallery of the Luxembourg side by side 
with the most celebrated modern canvases. 

Thus, while gradually increasing the number of the classes of sub- 
jects treated in the magazine, I have sought to do this strictly in ac- 
cordance with my first idea of the enterprise: for, at the beginning, 
my purpose was to publish any writing which might increase public 
respect for honest, intelligent labor; advance the cause of civic im- 
provement; diffuse a critical knowledge of modern art, as shown in 
its most characteristic examples chosen from the fine, decorative, or 
industrial divisions; advocate the "integral education," or in other 
words, the simultaneous training of hand and brain; and thus help to 
make the workshop an adjunct of the school. 

Throughout the existence of The Craftsman I have sought with 
great zeal, unflinching purpose and perfect modesty, to benefit the 
people. In the future I shall not relax my efforts. 

IN the accompanying pages of illustrations, I have sought to assem- 
ble certain objects of craftsmanship and small decorative schemes 
which correspond more or less closely to my ideas. Other than in 
the pieces of cabinet-making, which are the products of my own work- 



shops, I have sought to choose typical, or else very pleasing examples 
of foreign contemporary work. This I have done that comparisons 
may be made and critical knowledge gained from such examination 
and study. By this means, it will, I think, be proven that rapid com- 
munication, far from diminishing the dififerences between nations, 
tends rather to accentuate national characteristics; since danger and 
menace always serve to make possessions dearer and the watch over 
them more jealous. 

This modern tendency toward distinctiveness was well described 
by the noted French designer, M. Verneuil, in a recent number of 
Art et Decoration, when he said: "It is one of the characteristics of 
the present movement which is renewing our decorative arts, that it 
attempts to give to each country a style — a style which is peculiar to it. 
Henceforth, Austrian art will be clearly separated from the heavier 
German production, just as the latter is divided not less distinctly 
from the more graceful French, and from the eccentric Dutch style. 

"Whence it must be concluded that each country is on the way to 
possess an art conformable to the history of its race. And that is in- 
finitely more logical than a general art common to the most opposite 
races, such as existed a few years since and still partially exists to-day." 

With the intentions already defined, I present, for the most part, 
fragments, rather than whole schemes, as best illustrative of my pur- 
pose. The first of these foreign fragments is adapted from the work 
of perhaps the best known German decorator. Professor J. M. Olbrich 
of Darmstadt, whose published drawings: "The Ideas of Olbrich," 
have carried his fame from his own provincial city to all the great 
centers of both the Old World and the New. 

This designer is noted for his light and graceful treatment, and I 
have chosen from his "Scheme for a Music Room," shown in the 
German Section, at the St. Louis Exposition, a hood for a fireplace, in 
which he displays his best qualities of line. The opposition of the 
convex and the concave curves at top and bottom of the metal sheet 
gives distinction to this feature, and forms thus a focal point which 
permits strict simplicity in the remaining fitments and furnishings of 
the room. I have chosen to picture the fireplace as situated between 
windows, and so receiving upon its hood and tiling a strong play of 
light and shade. This constitutes in itself a species of decoration, of 
which none can ever weary, since it is infinite in variety. The touch 
of L'Art Nouveau found in the floral design set at the center of the 


hood, seems to me exceptionally good. It is well conventionalized, 
without extravagance, and bold enough not to be made trivial by its 
isolated position. 

Another interesting example I have also chosen from the German 
Section, as offering a suggestive and pleasing feature, which, if it were 
introduced into American houses, would add distinction and accent to 
such interiors as might be censured for crudity of treatment. In order 
to sustain the idea here offered, the triptych must present a pastoral or 
wood scene, which leads naturally to the thought of streams and 
springs. One can not praise too highly this transference of a most 
picturesque feature of the courts of old Italian houses into the interiors 
of a country in which climatic conditions forbid free open-air life at 
all seasons of the year. 

Still again from the German Exhibit I have selected features of 
general adaptability: in this case, two examples of wall-treatment. 
The first shows a simple, symmetrical manner of decorating a blank 
space above high wainscoting, which may be employed with fine effect 
in halls and bachelor rooms of private residences, as well as in reading 
rooms of public institutions, where the rhythm produced by such 
simple means of ornament will be found conducive to thought and 
quiet pleasure. The other example is more delicate in treatment, 
and suitable for music rooms and boudoirs. Here the surface of the 
wainscoting, in danger of becoming fatiguing by its extent, and of 
suggesting the effect of a barrier, is relieved at points easily reached 
by the eye, by moldings of clear profile, which form the base of niches 
for the reception of small pieces of pottery or statuettes; the former 
being preferable as offering opportunities for color schemes. 

Up to this point my illustrations have been adapted from the work 
of architects and decorators belonging to the North German Empire. 
I shall now offer examples of Austrian origin which show such differ- 
ences and characteristics as are indicated by M. Verneuil, in the quota- 
tion which I have already made from him ; the illustrations themselves 
being details from those which accompanied his article in the Parisian 
Review, Art et Decoration for August, 1904. 

These details are drawn from a group of four houses situated in a 
retired quarter of Vienna, named the Villen Kolonie; the dwellings 
being owned respectively by a noted painter, a decorative artist, and 
two doctors of medicine. 

My first choice from the drawings shown in the French Review 



is of a fixed bufifet. This feature occurs in a dining room treated in 
white and black which, as it appears, form a favorite scheme of Aus- 
trian decorators — especially of Herr Hoffmann, who is the designer in 
the present instance. Here, as noted by M. Verneuil, in his visit to 
Vienna, the fine, delicate lacquer of the furniture and wainscoting 
ofifers a happy contrast of material with the rude whitewash of the 
walls and ceiling, while a few notes of copper give point and accent 
to the whole. My second illustration from the Villen Kolonie is a 
detail of an Arbeitzimnier (study or workroom), the refined simplic- 
ity of which is eloquent with what Longfellow named "the sweet 
serenity of books." Furthermore, the design, with its severity of line, 
its heavily-latched doors, its extensive tiling, recalls agreeably the bare 
cleanliness of a convent and the austerity of a life of work. Regard- 
ing this severity of style, the comments of M. Verneuil are interesting 
as those of a fair-minded and enlightened critic who yet retains his 
racial point of view. He writes : 

"It appears that the exaggerated and almost exclusive use of the 
right line carries with it a dryness and monotony which the best quali- 
ties of composition can not remedy. At all events, this uncompromis- 
ing quality is not capable of appeal to our temperament nourished 
upon historic styles and more accustomed to grace and pliability than 
to dryness and rigidity. 

"Furthermore, in art excess is never to be recommended. But 
wishing to re-act, to protest against French grace, the Austrians reso- 
lutely set aside every curve; scarcely admitting anything but right 
lines. They reach, in this way, that eflfect of dryness which shocks us, 
although we readily acknowledge that a piece overloaded with curves 
is flatly commonplace. 

"Finally, the truth — that is, art — apparently lies in a rational 
equilibrium, in which right and curved lines mingle, oppose one 
another, and create harmony. And the conclusion is thus reached 
that in art every absolute system is without foundation, and that, far 
from adhering to fixed formulas, the artist should seek harmony alone, 
and care for nothing else than beauty." 

To end this well arranged and logical argument I should person- 
ally suggest that for the single word "beauty," there should be substi- 
tuted "the beauty of simplicity." 



; v^ 

!■ • r maiir n' nt I' 



./I ^- 

.5 ^ 

r s = 

< ■- 
- O 

ntttliilililtMiaifiir- r- ■■^•-''^'-•--•-^ 


N my former papers I have shown that the nineteenth century 
was the century of ugliness, and that the labor-saving machin- 
ery which it gave us in exchange for the beauty of life degrad- 
ed the workman without really adding materially to the hap- 
piness of the consumer. Some of my readers and critics have 
called this pessimistic, and so it would be, if I had intended to 
stop there. But pessimism is the root of optimism and you have to be 
thoroughly persuaded that things are in a bad way before you are 
willing to set to work to improve them. 

And if I have said that the nineteenth century was ugly, I have 
not said that ugliness was an unmixed evil, for it is not. There is a 
beauty in ugliness; in fact, the greatest of all beauties, for ugliness 
usually tells the truth, while beauty is often a liar. The worst sin is 
hypocrisy and ugliness knows nothing of this. Anything which is 
ugly at heart ought to look ugly on the surface and has no business to 
look otherwise. All that we have a right to ask of a face is that it 
should honestly represent the soul behind it. It is a mistake to whiten 
sepulchres or battleships. It is their duty to look grim and forbid- 
ding. Corruption should be inscribed on the front of the one, and 
hatred on the other. A slaughter house should have a crude and 
cruel architecture, recalling the iron age, and when I saw last week 
the plans of a beautiful building (erected to the memory of an inno- 
cent baby, too!), devoted to the torture of animals in the name of 
science — falsely so-called — it was clear enough to me that here artists 
and architects had been prostituting beauty to evil uses. 

The nineteenth century was guilty of no such subterfuge. It felt 
the ugliness at its core, and it did the best thing that it could under the 
circumstances : it let it come to the surface. If it had tried to conceal 
it, keep it in, and to look pretty notwithstanding, it would have died 
the death. It is better to break out in ulcers than to let the poison 
ferment within. Outside and inside should match, and the outside of 
the nineteenth century, its devastated forests, its black and bleak mining 
regions, its slums and factories and polluted streams, were merely the 
outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual disease. The real 
trouble was that men were harboring a false ideal of life, and it broke 
out in eruption all over the surface of things. And now with the 
surface of things ugly, it is harder than ever to cultivate beautiful, 



sane and healthy ideals again, for ugliness begets ugliness. I have 
seen villages in the South which were clearly designed as the back- 
ground of lynchings, and it is a labor of Hercules to be and to act 
more beautiful than your environment. 

And yet this is the one obvious thing to do. We have never suf- 
fered from lack of energy, and the preaching of strenuousness was 
never more out of place than in America, but we have had low ideals, 
and the preachers of strenuousness have nothing better to oflfer us. 
Our ideal has been to get something for nothing: to reap the forbid- 
den fruit of the tree of others' labor; to rise (or rather to sink) from 
earnings to income ; to seek an "independence" in absolute dependence 
upon the toil of others; and to shave a profit from the hire of the 
laborer. Our northern woods have fallen, not for the house-builder, 
but for the timber-speculator. Coal mines are worked, with an eye, 
not to the hearthstone, but to the dividend. Railways serve the stock- 
holder and not the traveler. The nineteenth century slaved and 
slaved, not because things were useful or beautiful, but because they 
paid. It never cared at all what it was doing, but only for the reflex 
action upon the doer. Its God was the market, and it built its cities 
not to live in, but to rent; It is easy to see that such a false motive 
must be disastrous to all beauty and to all art. Once admit that you 
are making a thing merely to sell, and you open the door to every 
commercial villainy. Make it to use, and, at once, all the muses hover 
about you. The peddler who cried: "razors to sell," and when 
told by a customer that his razors did not shave, answered that they 
were "to sell" and not "to shave" — is a good symbol of the nine- 
teenth century. If the twentieth is to be any better, we must go to 
the root of the matter and set up a new ideal. Profit-mongering, 
which is nothing but gambling with our workmen as counters, must 
cease, before the world can begin to be beautiful truthfully, and 
before art can be anything but a hollow, mincing lie. 

"npHERE are two books from which I collect my Divin- 

-*■ ity ; besides that written one of God, another of His 

servant Nature, that universal and publick Manuscript, 

that lies expans'd unto the Eyes of all : those that never 

saw Him in the one, have discovered Him in the other." 


MULLIKIN. *« From Handicraft for July, igoj 

IJN an out-of-the-way church of a small Italian town, the attend- 
ant handed me an index of its contents, the "cose preziose" 
(precious things) in possession of the church. They were 
worth cherishing, these bits of carving and bronze casting, 
though their makers' fame has scarcely reached beyond their 
native town. 

Suppose one of our present-day cities should be arrested in its 
development, as was the case with this Italian town, and should be 
preserved, with all its contents, as it now is, a spectacle to our descend- 
ants. Precious things ! What do you own that you caress with word 
and look and touch? 

Not long ago, I attempted to buy a bowl and pitcher for my wash- 
stand. Until then, I had hardly realized the grotesque shapes and 
decorations ofTered us. Cheap and expensive alike were hideous. I 
was in a real quandary. Could I consent to see and handle daily, to 
grow accustomed and callous to such deformities? I compromised 
on a pitcher for drinking-water and a salad-bowl of "willow pattern." 

Thus, at my home, we attempt to exercise a strict censorship over 
everything that enters our door. Yet there is an "open sesame"— the 
fatal words: "It is a gift." Opening some pacakage we exclaim: 
"Wasn't it sweet for her to remember us ?" Presently we ask : "What 
shall we do with it?" and the most courageous suggests: "Can't some 
accident happen to it?" 

If you come into possession of a vase, for instance, caught in the 
plight of ugliness, why not treat it with the same courageous kindness 
you would a sick dog — put it out of its misery! 

Perhaps you are asking: "Why should we be so particular? Why 
not buy and give, and receive and furnish with and live with, just what 
the shops offer us?" 

But the shops, you know, will furnish us with just what we demand. 
Do you remember the civil-war standard-bearer who, some hundred 
yards in advance of his regiment, responded to his Colonel's call: 
"Bring back that standard," with the retort: "Bring up your regiment 
to the standard!" 

A small proportion of our time is spent in real thinking; more time 
in domg; but I believe with most of us the largest proportion of our 
days IS spent in a more or less unconscious seeing, feeling, and hearing. 



And this receptiveness of the senses builds soul-tissue, just as food 
establishes the tissues of the body. Shall we take narcotics, opiates, 
and poisons in the form of sofa-cushions with "Gibson's Widow" on 
them; plates where painted fruits are more conspicuous and try to be 
more real than the luscious ripeness served upon them; "Turkish cor- 
ners" so crowded that they allow no room for would-be occupants? 

Furnish a room with lights and shadows! I watch them walk 
with slow, majestic tread from morning to night across my small, but 
spacious floor. When these senses of ours grow keen to such beauty, 
we shall be free from "the tyranny of things;" we shall "know how to 
appreciate art." Money is useless in our hands until we have learned 
the standard of values inherent in Nature. A beautiful home is 
always within the power of one who can feel an absolute emotion of 
joy at the aspect of things so simple as lights and shadows. Otherwise, 
millions of money could only, as it were, raise the ugliness of one's sur- 
roundings to a higher power. 

Walter Pater translates a rule of Plato in some such words as these : 

"If thou wouldst have all about thee like the colours of some fresh 
picture, in a clear light — keep the eye clear by a sort of exquisite alac- 
rity and cleanliness, extending even to the dwelling-place; discrimi- 
nate ever more and more fastidiously, select form and colour in things 
from what is less select; meditate much on beautiful visible objects; 
keep ever by thee if it were but a single choice flower, a graceful ani- 
mal or sea-shell." 

This is an old and well-tried rule which may well serve as a guide- 
post on the way to right living. 

ttjnpiS best to study all things — everywhere — 

-^ Nature and man — the great world and the small, 
Then leave them at haphazard still to fare. 
It is, you see, plainly impossible 
That one man should be skilled in every science. 
Who learns the little that he can does well." 

FROM Goethe's faustus, 





^y a a 



; I 












D 0< 
















URING a recent visit to Minneapolis, I found unex- 
pectedly a place of beauty which deserves to be widely 
known, since its influence could not fail to be beneficial 
throughout the country. I refer to a detail of the sur- 
roundings of the Bradstreet Craftshouse, in which, in 
small, as in the Louis Tiffany House, at Madison Ave- 
nue and 72nd Street, New York, on a large scale, one finds so many 
varying styles, so many features apparently hostile to one another — if 
considered separately — composed into a perfectly harmonious whole. 
The detail which so attracted me was a fountain, created from 
materials lying ready to the hand of the maker, and productive of far 
greater pleasure for the visitor than could be any formal design; 
because it is suggestive, instead of definite: variable in appearance, as 
Nature always is, and, so, capable of appeal to human moods. It 
proved the falsity of those garden and suburban street designs for 
fountains which, because they are traditional, are accepted by the 
people, thankful to obtain coolness and freshness, even if it must issue 
from the brazen throats of ugly monsters unknown, we may believe, to 
the famous Zoo of Noah's Ark. 

The Craftsman fountain, designed upon the Japanese principle of 
presenting Nature in miniature, is no strict or servile imitation. It is 
vital and without foreign accent, offering a fragment of American 
scenery "brought into drawing" by skilful methods, and playing a 
small but piquant part in ruralizing the city, according to the late Mr. 
Olmsted's great scheme. 

A pool, a few large boulders, a quantity of smaller stones, ever- 
greens interspersed with the more perishable greenery of ferns and 
aquatic plants : these were the simple elements from which this charm- 
ing result was derived through the exercise of skill and care, them- 
selves the outcome of a sincere love of Nature. 

The fountain, as is the case with all logically arranged artistic 
effects, is not presented to the eye without preparation, as its strength 
would be greatly diminished by unsympathetic surroundings. It is 
framed correctly and its problem drawn within limits which harmon- 
ize with its small proportions. 

The gateway forming the approach to the enclosure containing 
the Craftshouse and its dependent garden is also Japanese, but not of 
that artificial type which suggests the stage-setting of "The Darling 



V, , '•^' 1907 "I 


of the Gods" or "The Geisha." It too suggests, rather than possesses, 
large dimensions : this effect being secured through its broad opening. 
The frame itself has uprights of cement, colored to a rich, quiet green 
by means of pigment, and given a rough effect by stippling. The sur- 
face is further accented by means of pebbles fixed into the cement 
when it is yet soft, and brushed with green, in order to give them the 
appearance of lichens, or other similar wall accretions. The arch, or 
rather, curved top of the gateway, is an old temple-carving of a rich 
floral design, possessing a fascination not precisely definable, and for 
this reason the stronger. 

The fountain, whose relative position to the house is determined 
in the second illustration, offers to the eye an irregular interesting 
mass, very suggestive of a corner of a Japanese "hill-garden," of the 
"rough style," and yet, as I have already said, perfectly acclimated to 
the Northwestern American region. The pool providing the cas- 
cade, forms two miniature lakes connected by a narrow strait. The 
boulders are piled with an art which conceals art, and within their 
intervals, more or less close, appear small plants, tufts of foliage, and 
blades of grass, set as if by the hand of Nature herself. The cascade, 
poured from the mouth of a grotesque, is scarcely more than a thread 
of water. But it is so skilfully managed that its small volume, caught 
at various points of the descent by the constantly expanding base of 
stones, is made to do multiple duty, and its poverty turned to abundant 

The mass of the fountain is fitted to its surroundings through the 
agency of large stones placed at various points along the margins of 
the pool and beyond them; as well as by dwarf cedars, and a stone 
lantern; the last of which features is necessary to every Japanese gar- 
den, adding greatly to the composition in connection with the rock- 
work, shrubs, trees, fences and water-basin. Located generally at the 
foot of a hill, and on the bank of a lake or basin, its use is not so much 
to give light as to afford an architectural ornament; but when lighted 
softly, as is customary, the illumination upon the water is of beautiful 

The last characteristic feature remaining to be noted is the bamboo 
gate, suggesting the so-called "sleeve-fences" which, in Japanese gar- 
dens, are arranged along basins or pools, in order to produce a rustic 
appearance by bringing together water and water-plants. 

But words are quite insufficient to represent the wild beauty of this 










"Tleasant to the Sight"' 


ll'rittftt for The Craftsman 

" .-liiJ Go J planleJ a gar,ten easlivard in Eden ivherein He caused to 
groiu eiiery tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." 

Toehold the tree, the lordly tree. 

That fronts the four icinds of the storm! 

A fearless and defiant fon)i 
That mocks wild winter merrily. 
Behold the beauteous, budding tree 

U ith censors swinging in the air. 

With arms in attitude of prayer, 
With myriad leaves, and every leaf 

A miracle of color, mold. 

More gorgeous than a house of gold! 
Each leaf a poem of God's plan. 

Each leaf as froni His book of old 
To build, to bastion man\^ belief: 

Alan's love of God, man's love of man. 

Aye, love His trees, leal, trunk and root. 
The contour stately, upright grace 
That greets God's rain with lifted face; 
The great, white, beauteous, highborn rain 
That rides as white sails ride the main. 
That wraps alike leaf, trunk or shoot. 
When sudden thunder lights his torch 
And strides high Heaven 's a)nple porch. 
Aye, love God's tree: leaf, branch and root! 
Love not alone the ripened fruit, 
As the swine love and feed and die, 
Stalled in the mire of their stye! 


small spot in which dimensions seem to have lost their meaning, and 
there is no question of large or little. In studying it I recalled the 
chapter on "Gardens," found in that charming book of Mortimer 
Menpes, which he justly calls: "Japan, a record in color." There, 
commenting upon the Buddhist text: "Who discovers that nothing- 
ness is law — such a one hath wisdom," writes: "In Japanese gardens 
there is no point on which the eye fastens, and the absence of any strik- 
ing feature creates a sense of immensity. It is only accidentally that 
one discovers the illusion — the triumph of art over space. I saw a 
dog walk over one of the tiny bridges, and it seemed of enormous 
height, so that I was staggered at its bulk in proportion to the garden; 
yet it was but an animal of ordinary size." The quotation offers by a 
concrete example, a picture which so-called criticism or generaliza- 
tions are quite inadequate to render. But in taking leave of my sub- 
ject, I can not do otherwise than to urge that the principles involved 
in the production of this beautiful fountain and its accessories be 
broadly studied in all parts of our countr^^ This for several reasons. 
Such study will afford a strong impulse toward Nature and simplic- 
ity. It will demonstrate that beauty is not necessarily produced by 
large expenditure. It will promote habits of observation among the 
people and tend to create a critical public which shall permit no 
crimes to be committed in the name of municipal art. 

The unobtrusive work of Mr. Bradstreet is worthy to initiate a 
national movement. G. S. 

A garden is a portion of the earth's surface humanized. 
Nature is subjected to the designer's will; trees, 
grass, flowers and shrubs are made to do his bidding, and 
an ordered design takes the place of the capricious 
wildness of the primitive growth. . . . Gardening is 
an art of peace and luxury, and, as an accompaniment of 
buildings, follows in the wake of architecture. "Without 
it," says Bacon, writing in Elizabeth's time, "buildings 
and palaces are but gross handiworks ; and a man shall 
ever see that when ages grow to civility and elegancy, men 
come to build stately sooner than to garden finely." 




HE Craftsman House, Number X., as may be learned at 
a glance at the floor plans, is somewhat larger and 
more important as a structure than its immediate prede- 
cessors. Its dimensions, exclusive of verandas, are ap- 
proximately thirty by sixty feet; being thus amply suffi- 
cient to accommodate a family of five or six persons, 
together with their servants. To insure the best effect, the house 
should be situated at the intersection of streets, and set upon a plat of 
at least eighty by one hundred fifty feet of carefully kept greensward, 



adorned with well arranged vines and flowering shrubs; the vines 
especially ofifering fine decorative qualities, since their greens har- 
monize with the deeper greens and the browns of the masonry, and 
sharply contrast with the white of the supporting columns and trellis 
work. They furthermore serve a useful purpose, by affording in 
summer a grateful shade to the verandas and the windows of the first 
floor rooms; while the cold months find their brown stems bare of 
foliage; thus they offer no barrier to the admission of the scant light 
of the short winter afternoons. 


The facade pleases, as one approaches the covered veranda, by the 
placing of the window openings in the long stretch of wall, the hospit- 



able veranda, and the general effect of repose attained by the prepond- 
erance of horizontal lines. 

The house is surrounded on three sides by a stone and concrete 
terrace, which widens and grows higher by an easy step at the middle 
of the facade: forming thus a rectangular space which, being roofed, 
provides a roomy and sheltered veranda. The roof rests upon cylin- 
drical columns of wood rising from concrete plinths with rounded 
corners, and encasing iron supports for the timbers above. These 
columns are painted white, as are also those supporting the trellis work 
over the terrace at either side; while the trellis beams and the veranda 
are treated in the same way. 


The exterior walls of the house through the first story are built of 
large split cobbles, selected for their variety and accidents of color; 
the masonry being "laid up"' so that the rough faces of the fractured 
stone are exposed in the finished wall, and show pleasing tones of 
brown, green and gray. The mortar used is darkened almost to black, 
and given a greenish tone in order to harmonize with the shingles of 
the second story, which are laid in wide courses, and stained moss- 
green. The shingles of the roof are stained gray brown, as is also all 
the exterior finished wood-work, including the window- and door- 
frames and the front door. The chimneys, built of split cobbles laid 
in dark mortar, carry their pleasing color-harmony to the roof, where 
they are finished with a slab of red sandstone, supporting red clay 



THE plan shows a pleasing arrangement of rooms of more than 
average size, with ample ceiling heights (ten feet for the first, 
and nine feet for the second story), and abundant lighting 
from the numerous wide window-openings. 

The house, placed with its broad side facing the south, gives the 
living room exposure to the north, west and south; the dining room a 
southwestern exposure; and the work-room the "north light" which 
so materially lightens labor. 

The basement, extending under the entire house, contains a number 
of necessary rooms, separated by brick walls; the heater- room being 


near the middle of the cellar, and adjacent to a large coal storage room. 
Occupying a corner and lighted by four windows of good size, there 
is a work shop for the man of the house, which the boys may share, if 
they are fond of "making things," and anxious to learn the use of tools. 
Another corner, cool by reason of its location, is occupied by the vege- 
table and preserve closet containing ample space for shelves and bins. 
Then follows the laundry with tubs and heater; while an adjoining 
space provides storage for the coal used in the laund»ry stove and the 
kitchen range. Here a clothes chute connects with the floors above, 
and an elevator, quite unusual in a home of moderate cost, makes quick 






























connection befvveen the laundry and the drying room on the third floor. 

An outside cellar entrance with steps of cement gives access to 
grade at the rear of the house, while the usual stairway leads upward 
to the kitchen. The latter connecting with the dining room through 
the butler's pantry, has a floor of hard maple left white. Here, the 
walls have a wainscot of cement about five feet, six inches high, trow- 
eled smooth and marked into tile-shaped squares. Above this, the 
side walls and ceiling are plastered in the usual way, and, because of 
the northern exposure of the room, are painted with several coats of 
warm yellow, the last one of which is "stippled," the ceiling being of a 
lighter tone than the side walls. The woodwork of the room is of 
Carolina pine, stained a medium tone of green, and includes a cup- 
board for utensils, the usual table, a sink and other conveniences. 
The butler's pantry has an oak floor, treated in the same way as the 
floors of the dining room and the main hall ; the remaining woodwork 
being of chestnut, stained to match the finish of the dining room. 

On the first story the floors are of wide, uneven oak boards, stained 
to a gray somewhat darker than the remaining woodwork. Another 
noticeable point is that the living room and the other rooms of this 
story have windows provided with stationary transoms, composed of 
a carefully worked out pattern in leaded stained glass. These win- 
dows not being curtained, throw a glow of warm, ruddv light into the 


A room with dimensions of eighteen by twent\'-seven feet, occupy- 
ing the end of the building and receiving light from three directions, 
has a beamed ceiling, and a fireplace at the middle of one side, which 
is flanked by windows opening to the floor and giving on to the terrace. 

The chimney, built on the exterior of the house, shows no project- 
ing breast on the inside, and the green Grueby tiles framing the fire- 
place are set flush. Around these runs a fillet of copper about one and 
one-half inches wide; while a similar band is carried around the out- 
side of the tile next to the wood beam. The tiles are six inches square, 
except the six which form a forest-scene in the center, and are of much 
larger dimensions. Extending around the corner, at each side of the 
fire-place, there are low book-cases, giving an abundance of shelf 
room. The greater part of one end of the room is occupied by a 
window seat of generous proportions, while one long side is left quite 



bare of notable features, being marked only by the entrance and a low 
wainscoting: a treatment which leaves space for a piano and relieves 
the somewhat elaborate features of the other sides of the room. It 
must here be mentioned that the woodwork is of chestnut, fumed 
to a medium gray and very pleasing in appearance. 

The color scheme of this room is in yellows and greens; the wall 
covering showing a soft green which forms an admirable background 
upon which to work for effect. The window curtains are of yellow 
linen, figured in a pattern of rose and green ; the larger rugs are in two 


tones of green, with an occasional smaller one in dull yellow; while 
the scheme is completed by the yellow-brown cover and pillows of the 
window seat ; one blue pillow and some dull blue flower jars, set on the 
deep window ledges, being added to give the touch and tone of color 
necessary for balance. The electric fixtures are of copper, with yel- 
low opalescent shades, and are hung from the beams on rather short 
iron chains: one near each corner of the room and two in the center, 
over the large table. There are also copper jardinieres standing in 
the windows on small tabourettes and holding growing plants. 

The movable furniture of this room is of brown fumed oak, with 
the exception of one willow easy chair, which is stained moss green 











and harmonizes with the accompanying cushions of soft leather in 
the same color and tone. 


In this room the most interesting object is a recessed sideboard, 
having its top and back set with glass mosaic showing a design in yel- 
low and brown upon a background in tones of green. The opposite 
side of the room contains the fireplace, built of hard burned bricks, 
selected for their deep color and irregular faces, and "laid up" in 
"Flemish bond" with wide "raked out" black joints. Here, the color 
scheme of yellows and greens is similar to that employed in the living 


room. The fixed woodwork consists of a low panel wainscoting car- 
ried around the room on a level with the top of the sideboard, while 
the movables are of brown oak; the chairs having their backs and seats 
covered with Spanish leather, fastened with dull copper nails. The 
electric fixtures are of copper, with the bulbs set well inside of pol- 
ished metal domes, which concentrate the light and cast it upon the 
dining table with excellent efifect. 

This is a most inviting place, with its walls of warm brown, and a 
wide seat with casement windows above it, occupying one entire side. 



One end is filled with book cases, while the opposite wall space shows 
similar book cases, broken with a spacious desk, the details of which 
will be best understood by examination of the accompanying picture. 
This room has dimensions of twelve by fifteen feet six inches, and a 
beamed ceiling, plastered, and left in the rough. Again, the color 
scheme is composed of yellows, browns and greens ; the first color being 
used in the curtains, the others in the rugs ; while the leather seat-cush- 
ions harmonize with the wall covering. The "trim" is of hazelwood, 
treated with a chemical solution, which gives it a satin-like texture of 
an attractive greenish brown. The furniture is of green oak and 
consists of a substantial table with dravv^ers, and a few simple chairs 
with rush seats. The leaded glass transoms differ in design from those 
used throughout the remainder of the first floor, but are similar in 
color and diffuse the same warm light; while the artificial illumina- 
tion comes from wrought-iron electric fixtures, suspended from the 
beams, and having yellow opalescent glass shades. 


These rooms are wainscoted in boards of uneven widths carried to 
the height of the door openings, finished with a simple cap, and having 
no base: a thin, two inch strip serving in its place. On the landing, 
the wainscot is slightly recessed, and a tapestry is used for decoration. 
The color scheme is the same as that used in the living and dining 
rooms, and the tapestry demands a word of explanation. It is done in 
outline stitch and applique, the materials used being canvas and linens 
of soft, low tones, in colors to harmonize with the woodwork and the 

The chestnut woodwork ends with the rail about the stair; the 
woodwork of the hall and rooms of the second floor being enameled in 
old ivory, except the doors, which are of chemically treated hazel- 
wood, glazed in the upper panel, and curtained on the inside. The west 
end of the second story is occupied by a large bed room, to which are 
attached a dressing cabinet, closet, and private bath. This room has 
a large fireplace, and it should be treated in a cool tone of green with 
a ceiling in yellow. The bath has a white tiled floor and wainscot, the 
latter about four feet in height, above which the walls are painted in 
light gray-green, with a line of gold one-half inch wide, carried 
around, three inches above the wainscot, and the ceiling still lighter 
than the walls. The bath from the hall is treated in the same way, 
except that pale blue is substituted for green. 



In the southeast bedroom the fireplace occupies the corner of the 
room, and is faced with square tiles in old yellow ; the walls are treated 
in tones of old blue, and the rugs show blues and dull gold. In the 
northeast bedroom, warm yellows would be preferably used, with a 
Harvard brick fireplace, and rugs in yellow and green. The north 
bedroom might be treated in pomegranate, or old rose, with deep 
cream ceiling. 

The third story contains a large billiard room, two large, well 
lighted servants' rooms and a bath; the remaining space being used 
for drying the laundry-work. 


This is a large, attractive room with recessed seats at each end, 
beneath the dormer windows, which are glazed with yellow panes. 
An immense fireplace, built of hard burned, crooked bricks, with a 


great copper hood of sweeping lines, and showing tool marks, occupies 
one side. Closets are made under the roof on two sides, and a cue rack 
is just inside the third. The ceiling is of natural gray plaster, and the 
woodwork, all of cypress, is stained to a soft green by the use of dis- 
temper color mixed with a small quantity of glycerine; a process 
which gives to the wood an autumn-leaf efifect, heightened by all the 
accidents of color peculiar to wood. The furniture is of brown oak 
and the chairs have green leather seats. Altogether, this room shows 
the qualities of simplicity, spaciousness and comfort which are the 
essentials of a room of this character. 

To complete the general description of this, the tenth house of the 
present series, it remains but to state its cost, which may be placed 
approximately at $13,600.00. 87 


S the world grows up, experience makes it take back 
many of the sayings of its youth. We have had flimsy 
adages purporting to sum up moral lessons, and with 
a touch of fervor we were besought to believe that 
"beauty is only skin deep." We must now know that 
beauty, rather, goes to the core, betokening cleanliness, 
right being and soundness of heart; while physiologists are daily im- 
pressing us with the reactive powers of form and color, powers of 
bestowing rest, refreshment and stimulus, establishing the thorough- 
going relation of beauty, both as cause and effect, to physical life. 
Unlike the moral being of the past, we may no longer free ourselves 
from burdens of choice or decisions with the lazy phrase: "merely a 
matter of taste," since a new occasion has taught a new duty, and the 
consumer stands face to face with new commandments. 

The consumer relates himself in two distinct ways to his material 
world, first in the choices he makes, and then in the use he makes of 
these choosings. 

We have been negatively taught that beggars should not be choos- 
ers, and have virtuously taken unto ourselves a certain portion of con- 
tentment in passively accepting the gifts the gods, or the goddesses, 
provide. In later years, however, we have been told that our virtues 
as consumers are different, that we ourselves are responsible parties in 
our selections, and owe debts of intelligent appreciation to our mate- 
rial world. First, then, we are called upon to be choosers. But it is 
appallingly easy to be "lost in the crowd," and to forget our name, 
and to feel quite sure it is only Tom, Dick, or Harry. We, together 
with all else, "fall into anonymousness." We are unconvinced and 
unable to name our own preferences and ideals, those "new names" of 
personal choice and acquisition which life and opportunity should 
give to each one of us. We do not really know ourselves. In our 
sorry haste we forget to become acquainted with our own natures and 
our own real wishes, and delude ourselves into thinking that doing as 
our neighbors do is our own personal expression of the joy of life. 
Beside this awful anonymousness there is a sort of absent-feelingness, 
perhaps a Puritan legacy, which ought to give way to responsiveness 
to all beauty and become a constant consciousness of environment. 
We should have the subjective ability of owning our possessions, of 



having them belong to us, and only this art of appreciation and feel- 
ing of welcome to their gifts of aesthetic richness can make them truly 
ours. I know a woman who squanders her possibilities for actual 
feeling and enjoyment by frequently exclaiming: "Isn't that pretty?" 
"How lovely this is!" — and when challenged, immediately recants, 
saying: "No, I wasn't thinking much about it." This is in truth an 
absent-feelingness, and makes a fatal waste of potential pleasure in 
lively appreciation and choice. 

Of course we know the dangers of assertive and opinionated indi- 
viduality in art matters, and grant that personal choice can easily run 
riot. There is the eager feminine frenzy which Mr. Ade has so 
pithily and pitilessly characterized in his Moral : "There is no place 
like home, and some husbands are glad of it." Mr. Ashbee lets an 
Englishman give a discouraging picture of his position in the follow- 
ing description: "I'm a plain man and I know what I want!" Ad- 
mirable aphorism! But truly paraphrased as follows: "I'm an ig- 
norant man; I know what suits my ignorance, and I'm verv proud of 
it." And Mr. Howells adds his satirical commentary on the Ameri- 
can woman who, he asserts, when shopping, looks either sordid or 

Yet this must not mean the relinquishment of the pursuit and the 
blowing out of the candles. But being choosers, we must learn to be 
better choosers. Part of the trouble is a feature of to-day's educa- 
tional problem, since the transitional phase of many products, the 
changing processes as related to material and use, have, for the time 
being, put first hand knowledge and personal touch far from many 
individuals and left them unequal to the task or the joy of choosing. 
Many forms of instruction we used to find in the home through its 
own activities; now those have been banished and we have lost track 
of their values and meanings; but the next generation will have re- 
gained this knowledge and insight in their school training, and our 
children will easily rise to the situations which now disturb and con- 
fuse the consumer. In our present struggle with the question, we are 
commanded by three counselors: the economist, the artist and the 
philosopher, who, in moments of inspiration or zeal, speak regarding 
the whole duty of the buyer in the art world. 

The modern economist, like Hobson, or Smart, impresses upon us 
the power and need of qualitative consumption, and declares forcibly 
the growing influence for good the consumer may have upon the mar- 



ket. In such scientific pages we find as simple and strong a statement 
even as this: "You may increase the wealth of the nations far more 
efTectually by educating the consumer than by increasing the efficien- 
cy of the producer." In response to such teaching, organizations 
have been founded informing and enabling men, and particularly 
women, to become considerate and worthy consumers: organizations 
such as the National Consumers' League, the Outdoor Art League, 
and Housekeepers' Associations. There have been established Con- 
sumers' Leagues, pledged to demand certain qualities in the goods 
they buy, for the sake of the makers. Union labels similarly stand 
for excellence which the consumer is supposedly bound to respect 
through his own choices. 

But in more everyday language than that of the economist we have 
been exhorted by such men as Morris, Walter Crane, Ashbee, and all 
the leaders of the Arts and Crafts Movement, to take thought and to 
take time to become instructed, and then self-assertive regarding the 
things we admire and choose because of their beauty. They enforce 
the need upon the consumer of becoming informed, of being willing 
and painstaking in his quests. Suggesting and urging the proper 
education, Ashbee has somewhere written: "Regarding the education 
of a noble youth, Rabelais says in wisdom, as fit for the twentieth 
as for the fifteenth century, 'Went they likewise to see the draw- 
ing of metals, or the casting of great ordnance, so went they to 
see the lapidaries: the goldsmiths and cutters of precious stones; 
the alchemists, money coiners, weavers, velvet makers, watch makers, 
looking-glass makers, printers, organists, dyers, and other such kind 
of artificers; and everywhere learnt and considered they the industry 
and advancing of the crafts.' " 

Morris vehemently warns us against being "ignorant and nose- 
led" about the arts, saying: "I ask you to learn what you want, and to 
ask for it; in which case you will both get it and will breed intelligent 
and worthy citizens for the commonweal." 

Alert to such yearnings or possibilities in the consumer, there have 
been corresponding opportunities offered him. Really intelligent 
and conscientious buying in the art-world has been made much easier 
in the last ten years. The arts and crafts exhibitions have proved a 
help in this particular, and now in many cities there is an increasing 
number of permanent exhibits of good workmanship in all the crafts. 
Of recent fame and eulogy is the Bradstreet Crafthouse in Minne- 


apolis, where, in surroundings wholly fitting their beauty, one may see 
well displayed examples in many arts. It has been ecstatically called 
an "apocalypse of sale," and represents the appropriate and sympa- 
thetic housing of things of intrinsic beauty for sale. There is another 
phase of the influence which is making it more possible for the con- 
sumer to be a rational chooser. Art classes and art lectures are now 
given the salespeople in some of the art departments of large com- 
mercial enterprises, a well-known firm of Chicago having done this 
quite elaborately for the men and women in their pottery rooms. 
Another house in the same city has established very attractive show 
and sales rooms and indicates the spirit of the times in a kindly solici- 
tude for the consumer, with, of course, ulterior hopes. In editing 
its business pamphlet, one leaflet is called "The Fitness of Things," 
which, although a simple business announcement, might well be 
called "A Consumer's Symphony:" "To govern selection by excel- 
lence rather than expense; to prefer simplicity; to make use serve 
beauty, and beauty usefulness; to believe in goodness, abhor sham, 
make surroundings contribute to life; in short to conserve, even in 
the midst of commercial stress and strife, those eternal verities which 
make for advanced living; these things are a part of the Ideal and 
the Working Plan of this store. The intent of the store is that what 
you buy here shall fit your needs ; not merely that you shall be satisfied 
to keep the purchase, but that it shall satisfactorily serve a real pur- 
pose, useful and artistic, in your home. We want you to take advan- 
tage of our interest in the fitness of things to the extent of freely using 
the store, its contents and our counsel in working out a right result in 
home furnishing." In New York City, last winter, there was issued 
an elaborate prospectus of "A class in practical art, decorating and 
house furnishing, for salesmen, furnishers, manufacturers, purchas- 
ers," the first purpose of which was to make a salesman successful and 
valuable in his position through real knowledge of the problems 
involved in his departments, one of the questionable texts being: "the 
purchaser's extremity is the salesman's opportunity!" Art collections 
and art museums through better classification of their exhibits, and 
through explanatory lectures, are constantly adding educational fea- 
tures which make their art treasures more instructive and helpful to 

Thus we find that aside from the consumer's own necessary read- 
ing and thinking and seeing, the commercial world, having some 



educational ideals of its own, is making a response. In all these 
teachings and practices we shall come to know that real choosings 
mean a personal comprehension of comparative values. We have 
thought that to command valuable services means money power, but 
it means much else, it means a power of wisdom above rubies, and it 
becomes a great act of beneficence. 

Even so speak the men of science and the men of the market, but 
the philosopher goes still further in pointing the moral of consump- 
tion, and in our perplexities gives us an uplifting and imperative call 
to prayer. C. Hanford Henderson has written : "Resignation, renun- 
ciation, sacrifices, contentment, the whole catalogue of aesthetic abdi- 
cations are urged by those who have never caught sight of the splen- 
dor of life; but it is a coward doctrine, and has in it no element of the 

divine To attain less than the best that is possible is unaes- 

thetic, that is, immoral. Life is not an affair for any modesty of 
purpose. That is a shabby bit of laziness. Life is an adventure, 
quite worthy of the superlative. To have the strongest and most 
beautiful body, the most intelligent and accomplished mind, the most 
reverent and sympathetic spirit — to wear the most pleasing clothes; 
to inhabit the most beautiful house; to work in the most charming 
garden; to produce the most admirable wares; to establish with others 
the most ideal relations, — this is the formula for a daily life into which 
the philosophic idea literally translates itself. It is a good motto : 'Le 
meilleur, c'est assez bon pour moi.' " 

Having thus learned from these three wise men, the economist, 
the artist and the philosopher, that we must choose well, what must 
we do with our possessions? The first, and perhaps, after wasting 
many words, the only answer to this question is like unto the other 
commandment: Be users. 

The first word, therefore, in thinking of use, does not belong to 
the nursery "Don'ts;" making one too chary and alarmed for the 
sacred care of his possessions even to secure from them the just grati- 
fication and help they should give their owner. The first plea is to 
use them, to make them work hard, to yield to you freely of all of 
their delightful possibilities, in making for comfort, in being grateful 
to eye and mind. Our senselessness has become stereotyped in our 
accepted words of housekeeping and housekeeper. The supreme 
merit is the forever keeping; the supreme eulogy is for faithful genu- 
flexions to the spirits of camphor, rather than for the truly economic 



woman who secures from the house and its belongings the best there 
is in them to serve family and social uses. This in the end brings the 
honor due to the household stufif, and the greater power both of use- 
fulness and usableness to the householders. A recent communication 
in handicraft emphasized this necessary relation between use and 
beauty in our surroundings, in saying : "What possible use have we for 
most of these 'things' with which our houses are filled, and from 
which it is inconceivable that we should ever derive the slightest sat- 
isfaction, except in that perfectly vulgar form which accompanies the 
mere sense of possession? And could anything be more pitiable as a 
confession of industrial sin than the way in which we ransack, every 
corner of the world to collect as curiosities the adjuncts of healthier 
and simpler lives than our own? Why can we not learn the perfectly 
easy lesson that the homely, charming objects produced by people who 
live closer to nature than we do are more interesting than ours, simply 
because the life to which they correspond and whose needs they reflect 
is simpler, and the relation between the needs and their satisfaction 
more direct?" 

And in this consistent using of things we should welcome as hon- 
orable scars the normal markings of life. In spite of all our praises 
and yearnings for youthful beauty in human beings, we really do 
respect and admire those faces which show life lines, and bear witness 
to splendid service in the world. The bloom of inexperience and 
ingenuousness that charms at sixteen, in one who has seen many more 
summers, could stir only a shudder. In spite, too, of all our proud 
boasting and of our ability in polishing, covering up, and making 
over, and our general deceptive practices, the world does like the 
signs of use in its furnishings. We are partial to the baby's bitings 
in the old silver spoon; the Eton desks are sacred through the boyish 
knives of English heroes; and all legitimate, normal wear honors an 
object. Howells testifies to this really human character in our be- 
longings in referring to the "state of preservation far more heart- 
breaking than any decay .... since all earthly and material things 
should be worn out with use, and not preserved against decay by any 
unnatural artifice." 

As we demand and admire this serviceableness and honorable age 
in people and things, and urge use, so should we demur at signs of 
hard use or abuse. Just how our earth's beauty is defaced through 
ruthless methods, the sacrifice of our trees, and the insane wrecking 


'.'.' c:}'^' l_ 1 3 P< A R Y '■ '-^ '^- 

SEP 1907 I 



of natural beauties and glorious scenery at the stained hands of the 
advertiser, are aesthetic wrongs against which the consumer, above all 
others, should enter a most forcible protest. 

Here again it may be necessary for us to take a lesson or two, and 
learn to be users. The mere using in a direct and firsthand way is not 
so easy after all, for "the power to consume has some first relation to 
ability and merit," and to use things well we must be about some 
becoming business that is making our life worth while in itself. 
Morris has well counseled us in regard to our furnishing and our 
living: "The arrangement of our houses ought surely to express the 
kind of life we lead, or desire to lead: our houses should look like 
part of the life of decent citizens prepared to give good, common- 
place reasons for what we do." By our use we must express our own 
life and make these activities clearly represent it, and tend to enrich 
and ennoble it. Very often the reason why one does not admire other 
people's houses is the personal feeling of discomfort in them, in not 
seeing just how one could adapt his own doings to these rooms, how 
one could carry on his own businesses of life there, or, indeed, how 
these arrangements and furnishings belong to the activities and doings 
of the people who do live with them. For this very lack of relativity, 
many houses, big and little, elaborate and plain, are disappointing to 
the stranger. They fail to explain themselves. We look around in 
uncomfortable, unconscious query: Where do they sit to read, retire 
to rest, withdraw to write, gather to converse, stand up to work, where 
are the signs of life? Again the furnishings suggest simply empti- 
ness of life, showing nothing but foolish interests and occupations, 
only vain drudgery for housemaids, and entanglement for any real 
sociability. Alas! In these houses we cannot see where or how 
the people live. With such an active and assertive standard we soon 
find that the popular phrase "worse than useless" stands for emphatic 

Not only should our possessions show our life and interest in life, 
because they are intimately related to our activities, but they should 
tend to enrich and enlarge our horizon. Any individual with tinges 
or twinges of personal ambition is disturbed with the problem of 
comparative virtues and conflicting interests, the relative importance 
of material or mental cobwebs, of domestic or intellectual confusion. 
These simple daily crisscrosses often bring thoughts which lie deep 
enough for a woman's tears. With an exhilarating sense of freedom 



one often thinks of Thoreau's annual bonfire as an easy prescription 
for some of life's complications. Yet such heroic treatment reveals 
the fact that the summons to plain living and the other mandates of 
the simplification of life are hard sayings. We should not clutter 
our lives with many things. We must harmonize our possessions that 
they may become of actual service to us, and we must so cherish them 
in return that we know their good parts and beneficent points. Here 
we do weU to remember Ruskin's word: "A thing is worth precisely 
what it can do for you, not what you choose to pay for it." 

There are further lessons, too, in learning to be users. Though 
often we fancy ourselves hard pressed by our belongings in our care 
of them, we remain positively ignorant of many of our possessions. 
Our public benefits and the blessings of commonwealth are increasing 
fast, and it behooves us, as honest and capable democrats, to embrace 
our coming duty, and, at least, to teach our children to use our galleries 
and libraries and parks, and to be at home in our art world. 

In thus becoming real and skilled choosers and in making service- 
able uses of our possessions, we shall put down the "tyranny of things" 
and learn the "gentle art of living," and, mayhap, we shall discover 
that in beauty's behest lies another of those perfect laws of the Lord 
which have power of converting the soul. 

I DO not want art for a few, any more than education 
for a few, or freedom for a few. No, rather than art 
should live this poor, thin life among a few exception- 
al men, despising those beneath them for an ignorance for 
which they themselves are responsible, for a brutality that 
they will not struggle with rather than this, I would that the 
world should indeed sweep away all art for awhile, as I said 
before I thought it possible she might do; rather than the 
wheat should rot in the miser's granary, I would that the 
earth had it, that it might yet have a chance to quicken in the 




THE change of season is never 
unwelcome to the Craftsman, 
even though, as in the present 
instance, he must look forward to 
months of restriction to the close 
limits of his workshop. To console 
or rather to inspire himself, he re- 
calls once more the sentence which he 
has often quoted from Alfred de 
Musset: "The spirit can open wings 
as wide as Heaven in a dungeon as 
narrow as the hand." During the 
temporary sleep of Nature, he will 
find ample occupation in thinking 
kindly of his fellow men, devising 
plans for their progress, which he 
would put in practice, were he pos- 
sessed of material resources. 

At the present moment, it is the 
school children who absorb his inter- 
est, as, in June, it was the young men 
and women coming from the colleges 
to offer their mental merchandise in 
exchange upon the world's market- 
place. During the last few weeks, 
working at his door in the September 
sunshine, the Craftsman has studied 
the faces and listened to the speech 
of hundreds of boys and girls, as they 
pass to and from the many schools of 
various grades existing in the vicinity 
of his workshop. A few of these 
children have the air of affluence; a 
large proportion of them belong to 
the middle classes, and bear the stamp 
of "happy mediocrity," as well upon 
their countenances as upon their gar- 
ments, although here and there an 
individual child is marked with the 
unmistakable sign of personal power. 
But the masses of them are the chil- 

dren of the poor, of foreigners who 
have come to free America, in order 
to escape the persecution of religious 
or military despotisms, or to shield 
themselves from famine, or excessive 

To all these divisions, each accord- 
ing to its peculiar needs — as the 
Craftsman reasons — the municipal- 
ity, or better, the Republic, owes the 
gravest of debts : that is, education, 
if this process be understood in the 
sense of development, rather than in 
the sense of acquisition. 

In reality, the children are lent by 
the State to the educators, and it is 
for the latter to distinguish means 
from ends; to provide that method 
shall not absorb or annihilate the 
thing in itself: the true education that 
shall lead its recipient to independ- 
ence and usefulness. 

From his observations, the Crafts- 
man is led to make an earnest, nay a 
strenuous plea for practicality, for 
instruction that shall create mental 
alertness in the child, train him to 
observe, and give him the power to 
translate quickly and without waste 
thoughts into words and things. The 
humble worker, drawing a lesson 
from his own experience — which 
teaches him that the mind is never 
more active than when the hands are 
busy — sees in manual training the 
sole means of reaching an end of 
supreme necessity. Nor are there 
objections lying in the way. The 
system is not one to be restricted in 
application. This "integral educa- 
tion," this correspondence, friendship, 



or rather, working partnership, be- 
tween the brain and the hand must 
not be withheld from the children of 
the rich. Taught to measure and to 
fit small material objects, they will 
extend their trained powers to wider 
fields of judgment; they will be saved 
from the temptation to become para- 
sites; they will aid in removing class 
distinctions which trammel the prog- 
ress of a democracy. 

For the children of the middle 
classes these advantages will be some- 
what modified. Further than the 
acquirement of individual skill, there 
will be added, in many cases, the in- 
centi\"e to gain distinction, or an am- 
ple means of livelihood through the 
craft so acquired, and, in this way, 
will relief be brought to the over- 
crowded professions. 

But the masses will benefit most of 
all by the "integral education." 
Largely the children of foreigners, 
they imperfectly grasp abstract prin- 
ciples ; retaining by memory what 
they should seize by reason or logic. 
But they have the heredity of work, 
and this may be turned in the best pos- 
sible directions, to the saving of the 
individual from idleness and its too 
certain follower, vice, and more wide- 
ly, to the building up of the common- 
wealth materially and morally. 
Manual training as a propagator of 
democracy, as a means of manual de- 
velopment, as a preparation for gain- 
ing an assured livelihood, is thus a 
factor in the educational problem 
confronting the nation, which no 
thinker or man of good will can af- 
ford to ignore. 

T X revolving these thoughts in his 
-^ mind, the Craftsman does not 
seek to censure those whom it would 
be presumption in him to judge, but 
he does not cease to pray that the 
tool may be put Into the hand of the 
child of the public school, as the mod- 
ern svmbol of salvation. 


THROUGH the energetic action 
of Mr. Gustav Stickley, M. 
Charles Wagner will lecture 
upon "The Simple Life," on the 
evening of October 1 1, in the hall of 
the Craftsman Building. Syracuse. 
The press has already given much 
publicity to the fact of NL Wagner's 
arrival in this country, and the writ- 
ings of the Alsacian peasant preacher 
have for years been appreciated in 
America by a certain class of persons, 
most numerous in New England, 
where the traditions of austerity re- 
main. But in spite of these condi- 
tions, popular ignorance and misap- 
prehension exist regarding the view 
of life taken by ^L Wagner, just as 
the ill-informed and the careless, last 
year, confounded Parsifal with the 
Passion Play. Many, as it would 
appear, believe that the "Apostle of 
Simplicity'," as he has been called, 
would destroy all modern refine- 
ments, and, like a new Savonarola, 
make street bonfires of "the vanities." 
To illustrate this prejudice, the case 
may be cited of a woman to whom 
a bookseller recentlv offered a copy 
of "The Simple Life." "No," she 



replied, "I will not take it. It 
would make me think of four-room 
flats and bad English. / '.vant some- 
thing^ more elevating." 

The author of these observations 
represents a large class of persons 
who, for their instruction, need not 
seek beyond the preface of M. Wag- 
ner's little classic, to find that he con- 
siders simpUcity a state of mind, not 
dependent upon external circum- 
stances : a fixed purpose tending 
toward a useful end which precludes 
indecision and complexity of desires. 

AX action taken last spring by the 
■'- ^ Municipal Council of Paris, de- 
serves to be widely imitated. Scien- 
tists and artists ha\-ing observed the 
destruction of old gardens in many 
quarters of the city, urged that, at 
least, some substitute should be pro- 
vided for these lost spots of beauty 
and refreshment. The force of their 
united plea was that the oxygen ex- 
haled by plants is essential to human 
life; that air passing over masses of 
bloom incorporates into its substance 
elements of health: finally, that the 
sight of gay colors creates cheerful- 
ness and fosters art-education. 

Acceding to the spirit of this plea 
the Municipality.- established three 
prizes for window-gardens, with the 
result that Paris, from Montmartre 
to Saint Antoine. blossomed with 
miniature hanging gardens, and that 
the white-washed walls of old houses 
hid their wrinkled ugliness beneath 
mantles of green vines. By this 
competition which flattered the pride 
of three persons, the entire popula- 


tion of a capital was benefited and 
made happier. 

Can not this movement be extend- 
ed to America as a working factor 
for the elimination of the slum? 


THE Royal AcADE.\n- from 
Reynolds to Millais," is 
the title of a most interesting 
series of typical illustrations, accom- 
panied by critical text, edited by 
Charles Holme and published by 
John Lane. The painters, sculptors 
and engravers are treated in separate 
bodies, but collectively, in a continu- 
ous narrative. The special sections 
are preceded by a most interesting ac- 
count of the origin and history of the 
Academy, and. at the beginning of 
the painters' section, there is an ad- 
mirable resume of the qualities and 
defects of the English School; a sum- 
ming up so succinct and accurate that 
it might ser\-e as a text-book. It 
condenses into a single page more 
facts and suggestions of facts than 
are usually found scattered through a 
thick volume, and. being thus discon- 
nected, are hard to find and unfit to 
instruct. The illustrations are rep- 
resentative examples of their authors, 
and. at the same time, not too well 
known to have lost their interest for 
critics and travelers. [New York: 
John Lane : 8 - 2 by 1 1 ^ inches ; pro- 
fusely illustrated; price $2.00.] 

"The History of the Renais- 
s.^xcE IX Italy," by Jacob Burck- 


hardt. has just reached its fourth edi- 
tion in Germany. Like the preced- 
ing one. it is edited by Dr. Heinrich 
Holtzinger. professor of the histon.- 
of fine arts in the Technical School. 
Hanover, who tells in his preface that 
the old author labored upon the de- 
velopment of the work, even to his 
ninetieth year. This latest edition 
contains the result of much research 
in original sources, and the number 
of illustrations, before ven,- large, has 
been further increased. The work 
itself is too widely known to warrant 
comment, but the mere mention of 
this new foreign edition will not. per- 
haps, be wholly superfluous. [Ge- 
schichte der Renaissance in Italien 
von Jacob Burckhardt: vierte Au- 
flage: bearbeitet von Dr. Heinrich 
Holtzinger: mit 310 illustrationen ; 
Stuttgart: Paul Neff, 1904.] 

"The Child's Book-Pl.\te" is 
an exquisite miniature volume which 
is a strong plea, written from a ven^ 
youthful point of view. To this are 
added several simple schemes for 
book-plates, drawn with a few strokes 
and seemingly in a childish manner, 
but showing good qualities of design 
and workmanship. The plea has 
such just reason for making, that in 
view of the instinct which it would 
correct and direct, it desen-es quota- 
tion here. It begins : "There is noth- 
ing in which a child takes more de- 
light than in a mark of some sort de- 
noting ownership of his little posses- 
sions. To see his name on anything 
he owns gives him such pleasure that, 
unless his enthusiasm is properlv di- 

rected, one of its results is likely to be 
scribbled pencil-marks throughout his 
books. Of course he does not realize 
that these unsightly pencil-markings 
are really mutilations: seeking only as 
he does to establish his claim to his 
books beyond a doubt. The posses- 
sion of a little book-plate of his ven,* 
own, a little label well designed and 
printed, denoting his ownership of a 
book, quite leads a child to greater 
interest in his diminutive library and 
its care ; wherefore, it is an idea to be 

In these opinions all who have ob- 
served children will concur, and few 
adults there are who have not suffered 
from the scribbling propensitv of 
children, which is often but the ex- 
pression of an art-instinct, as may be 
deduced from the Instance of a little 
girl of four years, who, being re- 
proached for disfiguring an art- 
brochure, replied: "I did it with a 
blue pencil, and that matched the rib- 
bon of the book." 

As may be repeated, the little vol- 
ume can not fail to please .intelligent 
children, beside being capable of serv- 
ing a useful end in their education. 
[The Child's Book-Plate by Gardner 
C. Teall: New York: Charterhouse 
Press; size 5X3ii inches; illus- 

There is a new edition of Tolstoy 
which promises to be most satisfac- 
tor\-. because of the conscientious 
spirit in which it is undertaken by the 
translators and editors who, in an 
extended preface, define their pur- 
poses and explain the difficulties un- 



der which they labor. This preface 
is so enlightening that it seems better 
here to comment upon it briefly than 
to deal with the body of the work, 
which, at this late day, it would be 
folly to attempt to judge. The 
translators are a husband and wife, 
who possess not only an adequate 
knowledge of Russian, but also an 
acquaintance with the manners and 
customs described in their text: the 
latter qualification, as they state, be- 
ing indispensable, in this instance, to 
the accomplishment of correct work. 
The most interesting part of the pre- 
face is an account of previous transla- 
tions, showing that, in many cases, 
the authors of them have been dis- 
honest, as well as inefficient; retrench- 
ing, altering, and inventing accord- 
ing to their own ideas of policy, style, 
and commercial availability. Among 
the instances of egregious error cited, 
is the case of a German, who trans- 
lated the inscription to "Anna 
Karenina:" "Vengeance is mine: I 
will repay," as: "Revenge is sweet; 
I play the ace;" the mistake arising 
from Tolstoy's use in the Biblical 
quotation of the Sclavonic of the 
Russian Church ritual. As a paral- 
lel to this error is noted one made by 
an English translator, who, having 
misapprehended from beginning to 
end one of Tolstoy's most serious 
philosophical works, inquired regard- 
ing the author's sanity. Beside this 
very interesting criticism, the preface 
contains a comment upon English 
style, made by the great Russian 
writer, which is worthy of serious 
consideration. It runs : "You do not 

know how to write simply and direct- 
ly. It is not easy to do it, and you 
English for generations have had an 
artificial literary style so engrained 
into you that there now seems to be 
no remedy for it." There occur, 
further, in this part of the book, cer- 
tain statements regarding the pro- 
posed new English edition, which 
should be read by all admirers of Tol- 
stoy. Among those offering the most 
general interest are the following: 
"It will yet need years of conscien- 
tious work before a reliable version 
of all Tolstoy's works can be com- 
pleted. Every volume should be 
prepared so as ultimately to fit into 
its place among the others. In the 
case of each work, the date of its first 
publication, the Russian version re- 
lied upon, and the name of the trans- 
lator, should be given; and no version 
should be included which is not thor- 
oughly satisfactory. In the present 
edition, it is also intended that suffi- 
cient explanation shall be given, in 
prefaces or foot notes, to enable the 
reader to understand the relation be- 
tween the work he is reading and 
the conclusions Tolstoy ultimately 
reached, as well as to minimize such 
difficulties as are unavoidably met 
with, when the literature of one peo- 
ple is passed on to another." 

If such intentions as these shall be 
fulfilled, the result can not be other 
than a faithful rendering of material 
which must be preserved as a link in 
the evolution of human thought. 
[Sevastopol and other Military 
Tales, by Leo Tolstoy; New York: 
Funk and Wagnalls; price $1.50.] 



THE following verses are here quoted as appropriate to the ques- 
tion of M. Wagner's nationality. They gain further fitness 
from the fact that the elder of the two patriotic litterateurs, 
Erckmann-Chatrian, was the uncle of the eminent Alsacian pastor, 
the subject of our present article.— [The EDITOR.] 

Dis-moi quel est ton pays, 
Est-ce la France ou rAllemagne? 
C'est un pays de plaine et de montagne, 
Que les vieux Gaulois ont conquis 
Deux mille ans avant Charlemagne, 
Et que I'etranger nous a pris ! 
C'est la vieille terre franijaise 
De Kleber, de la Marseillaise 

Erckmann-Chatrian . 

Tell me which is your fatherland, 
The Teuton's country, or fair France? 
This smiling region, hill and plain, 
Was conquered by the Gallic lance 
Two thousand years ere Charlemain. 
But now the stranger makes it stand 
.Subject and 'slaved, this old French land 
Of Kleber and the Alarseillaise. 

ISTORICAL characters are often regarded by practical 
people as synonymous with mythical personages. This 
is because that in them one dominant quality has so ab- 
sorbed all other distinguishing marks as to reduce them 
from persons to mere abstract principles. They have 
come to represent some great event, some influence 
which changed the course of civilization, some movement in art or 
literature. To employ a bold figure of speech, one might say that 
their photographic likeness made by the record of the small facts of 
daily life has disappeared, to be replaced by the portrait from the 
hand of that supreme impressionistic master whom we call Time. 
It is certain that the latter is the true rendering — therefore, the one 
permanently advantageous to both the individual treated and the per- 
son who would study him. Thus do Truth and Time work together 
as allies for the instruction of the world, correcting the broken line of 
petty facts, and binding together by correctly placed lights and shad- 
ows things apparently irreconcilable to one another. It is the living, 
rather than the dead, who are liable to be misunderstood and mis- 
judged, not on account of the wilfulness of their contemporaries, but 
simply from the inability of these latter to reach the true angle of 
vision, or the proper atmosphere through which to view the subjects 
of study. As in photography, the likeness of a portrait is nullified, 
caricatured, or destroyed by an accident of light, while yet many will 
declare the picture to be a true one, because produced by mechanical 



process; so, the prevailing impression of an eminent contemporary 
mav be insufficient and, to a degree, false, because derived from a 
restricted class of facts. Under such conditions as these it would 
appear that the personality of M. Charles Wagner is considered by 
the larger part of Americans with whom his name has become a house- 
hold word. For them he is the author of "The Simple Life" and 
other small volumes of a homely, somewhat ascetic philosophy, ex- 
pressed with a clarity and charm which the makers of French prose 
alone know how to give to their writings. For them he is a species of 
Saint John Evangelist, clad in the modern equivalent for camel's hair 
and leather, and preaching in what is commonly believed to be the 
spiritual desert of the world. 

Into this conception much error enters, owing, as it must be em- 
phasized, from being founded upon facts of restricted significance, or 
of minor importance, and partially also upon a misapprehension of 
these same facts. M. Wagner's place in his chosen field of labor is 
much less conspicuous, although certainly not less great, or less useful, 
than the majority of his American friends, gained through his popular 
writings, believe it to be. His highest value as a leader of thought, as 
a social factor, as a man of character, resides in his participation in the 
Liberal Protestant movement of New France. His position and 
functions are best explained by saying that he is a husbandman work- 
ing to fertilize the soil, rather than a horticulturist engaged in pro- 
ducing rare and brilliant flowers. It is also safe to assert that, outside 
the quarter of his residence and the circle of Protestant activity, his 
name is much less widely known in Paris, than in our own Boston and 
Chicago. Great allowance must therefore be made for the rhetoric 
of writers who refer to M. Wagner's plea for a return to the "Simple 
Life," as rising from "the greatest vortex of modern civilization, from 
the most marvelous and complex of the world's civic creations — from 
Paris, the dazzling and magnificent capital." For these statements, 
although effective in seizing the ear, produce among the people two 
erroneous impressions. 

First, M. Wagner can, in no sense, be represented as a prominent 
visible factor in the popular life of Paris. He has been afiforded no 
opportunity of attempting to turn the thought of the citv into new and 
purer channels. He has not risen within the historic Church to 
revolt against authoritative institutions, like Savonarola in Medician 
Florence, or yet, like Pere Hyacinthe, Canon of Notre Dame, whose 



burning Biblical eloquence drove the Parisian aristocrats to peni- 
tence, and whom later we have known as the Old Catholic leader, M. 
Charles Loyson. No resemblance therefore exists between careers 
which were begun under official protection and the course of M. 
^^'agne^, which, from the beginning, has been obedient to, or rather 
an integral part of a movement observed alone by students and think- 

The second erroneous impression made by the sentences earlier 
quoted, consists in the scant justice done by their animating spirit to 
Paris as a center of thought. The quarters of the Champs Elysees 
and the Opera represent but one phase of the city, and are the only 
ones which give it the right to the title of "dazzling and magnificent." 
But the most truly Parisian region, the Latin Quarter, although often 
maligned, constitutes one of the most brilliant foci of learning and 
research existing in the world. Constant, too, in patient toil, it has 
continued its labors from the twelfth to the twentieth century, from 
the times of Abelard and Heloise down to that other pair of happier 
lovers who, only last year, announced the discovery of radium. But 
at this moment, no description of the capital, misnamed "the modern 
Babylon," could be so fitting as the words of M. Wagner himself, 
when he writes: 

"Take the Paris of early morning. It will ofTer much to correct 
your impressions of the Paris of the night. Go see among so many 
other working people the street-sweepers. . . . Observe beneath these 
rags those caryatid bodies, those austere faces! . . . When the air is 
cold, they stop to blow their fingers, and then begin their work anew. 
So it is every day. And they, too, are inhabitants of Paris. 

"Go next to the faubourgs, to the factories, especially the smaller 
ones, where the children, or the employers labor with the men ! Watch 
the army of workers marching to their tasks! How ready and will- 
ing these young girls seem, as they come gaily down from their distant 
quarters to the shops and offices of the city! Then visit the houses 
from which they come! See the woman of the people at her work! 
The husband's wages are modest, the dwelling is cramped, the chil- 
dren are many, the father is often harsh. Make a collection of the 
biographies of lowly people, budgets of humble family life: look at 
them attentively and long! 

"After that, go to see the students. If you knew the toil and grind 
of the Latin Quarter! . . . The papers say enough of those who break 



windows; but why do they make no mention of those who spend their 
nights toiling over problems? Because it would not interest the 

"I should never end, were I to try to point out to you all that you 
must go to see, if you would see all : you would needs make the tour of 
society at large, rich and poor, wise and ignorant. . . . Paris is a 
world, and here, as in the world in general, the good hides away, while 
the evil flaunts itself." 

From this quoted passage alone it is plain that a popular misappre- 
hension exists in the United States, both as to M. Wagner's position 
in Paris, and as to the environment in which he pursues his humani- 
tarian labors. He is simply a strong force for good, working inde- 
pendently, and yet allied with a recognized movement, in the midst 
of the most democratic city of the world. 

FROM this somewhat negative treatment of M. Wagner, if we 
pass to consider what he is, rather than what he is not, we shall 
find the man, as well as the cause which he represents, to be of 
great interest and importance. He belongs to that worthy and dis- 
tinguished element which is noiselessly and with deliberate structural 
accuracy, raising France from the disasters and dangers which she 
has incurred since 1870, to a height which shall again assure for her 
the name of la grande nation, although this time it will be the reward 
of suffering, fortitude, and unflinching obedience to high purpose. 

To participate in this work of reconstruction, even to bear in it a 
nameless part, is an honor ardently desired by every true French 
citizen. To be a leader in the same work by force of position as a 
liberal Protestant, by intellectual power, by broad human sympathies, 
is a destiny which falls but to an occasional individual man, and 
even then rarely to the same degree as to M. Wagner. 

In considering the position of a French Protestant, one can not do 
better than to define it according to the views of M. Andre Bourrier, 
who, in 1895, l^id aside the soutane of the priest to join the Liberal 

This gentleman, in reviewing the obstacles lying in the way of the 
cause, notes that Protestant principles are popularly regarded in 
France with hostility, or, at least, with distrust; that prejudice con- 
founds them with foreign and unpatriotic influences — notably with 
the most dreaded of all: those of German origin. He further very 



justly observes that Calvinism does not appeal to the Latin races, who 
find its simple ritual crude, and its chapels bare of beauty. On the 
other hand, he points out that, in spite of the tyranny of its dogmas, 
the Catholic faith, for the masses of the French people, is a religion of 
self-sacrifice and devotion, surrounded by the sweet and tender tradi- 
tions of the Christian ages, which it would be almost sacrilegious to 
reject. These prejudices, these preconceived ideas, will, M. Bour- 
rier prophesies, disappear in time, and a reconciliation will be effected 
among the hostile principles. But the one Church will not be ab- 
sorbed by the other. The good and the true of each system will be 
preserved, distinctions will be lost, and the clergy of the new faith will 
preach neither Catholicism nor Protestantism, but pure Christianity. 
To support the optimism of his prophecy, M. Bourrier cites the opin- 
ion, coinciding with his own, expressed by the eminent legislator and 
Protestant pastor, M. Edmond de Pressense, as early as 1872. Fin- 
ally, to obtain credit for a conception which, to the skeptical, might 
appear no nearer to realization than it stood three decades since, M. 
Bourrier turns to the great authority of M. Charles Wagner, who 
foresees the ultimate triumph of a religious system suited to the tem- 
perament of the French people, which shall be established upon 
Protestant principles invested in new and aesthetic forms. Then, 
through the realization of this dream, as M. Wagner himself calls it, 
there would arise a Church devoted under God to liberty, equality 
and fraternity, freed from the aggressions of an Italian pope, and 
whose clergy would not be oppressed by tyrannous bishops. 

SUCH is the movement termed by foreign spectators the New 
French Idealism, which expressed itself more than a decade 
since in the "Union for Moral Action:" an organization having 
among its recognized leaders Messieurs Paul Desjardins and Charles 
Wagner, men who are sometimes reproached for their moderation 
unfitting spiritual reformers, and whose views are criticised as con- 
stituting a mild Tolstoyism, seeking to make compromise between a 
radical philosophy and the disposition of the masses. 

But this criticism appears to be unjust from the fact that it makes 
no allowance for racial characteristics. The violent is not necessarily 
the strong, and restraint is but the tacit acknowledgment of reserve 
power. The logic of the French mind can not be compared with the 
impetuous spontaneity of the Russian, and the force of an argument is 



not to be termed feeble because it concentrates and persists, instead of 
wasting itself in abortive struggle. Tolstoy has indeed stirred the 
consciences of men of all nations, and his auditory has become the 
world. But there are reforms to be effected, milder but not less 
necessary, than those which are preached by this prophet of wrath. 
And such, it may be believed, will be accomplished by M. Wagner 
and his colleagues of the "Union for Moral Action," especially since 
they are guided by that power to turn the abstract to the concrete, to 
reduce principle to practise, which is the sure instinct of the French. 

It is to be regretted that this group of generous and brilliant men 
was diminished in number by occurrences incident to the Dreyfus 
case: a portion declaring themselves for, and certain others against 
"revision;" the latter being animated by an exaggerated patriotism 
which blinded their sense of justice. 

Among these secessionists there is one whose loss is especially 
painful, since he may be called the Walter Pater of France. This is 
Maurice Pujo, a critic whose respect for moral ideas is as profound as 
that of Tolstoy himself, and whose exquisite literary quality strongly 
recalls that of the English essayist too early lost to the world. 

Compared with M. Wagner, M. Pujo appeals to a limited public; 
for his writings lack homeliness, and savor of the midnight lamp. 
They bring no strong, steaming odor of the upturned clod. But the 
asceticism, the radiant purity which emanate from them remind one 
in some mysterious way of the white-robed mystical figures of Dag- 
nan-Bouveret's religious pictures. 

As a parallel to certain passages of the "Simple Life," AL Pujo's 
considerations upon morality may be here quoted, as showing, together 
with the former, the exalted spirit of the "New French Idealism." 
The voung critic writes: 

"With our moral efforts, our life becomes life, and acquires dignitv 
and importance. What we call an accident or fatality is really our 
own weakness. There are no neutral deeds; everv action, every 
moment of our life is moral or immoral; there is nothing for which 
we shall not be responsible to all mankind. Everyone spreads good 
or evil around, even among beings whom he does not know; everyone 
is concerned, all the rest of humanity. The strength of his moral 
impulse decides the strength and greatness of a man. At the begin- 
ning of our century we had great poets. They sang of great desires 
and great passions, but notwithstanding the brilliancy of their work, 
1 08 


it was not pure or great enough. Some of them surprise us by the 
richness of their imagination, others by the power of their sentiment, 
but I never found in them any will ; the moral question was not marked 
by them with sufficient strength, and, therefore, they did not look into 
the depths of life. What was the great power of Christianity, if it 
was not a moral ideal, if it was not that unheard of discovery that this 
happiness might come from suffering, that it is enough to give up the 
joy we desired for it to come to us more fully than we could expect?" 

Once again M. Pujo reveals the spirit of New France, when he 
thus expresses himself: 

''The noble, elevated, pure soul of an artist is a powerful factor in 
the impression which his work has to produce. Often an artist has to 
travel along the road of painful efifort and to fight hard to attain the 
state of grace, that supernatural state, in which a thought becomes a 
word, and a sentiment an action; in w'hich suffering produces flowers, 
and life produces life." 

From the examination of thoughts such as these it may be reasoned 
that the future of a nation cannot be dark and threatening, while it 
possesses a body of men who force comparison with King Arthur's 
Court. Numbers of these men have attained individual distinction, 
but it is as a body that they are best known : the spiritual command of 
this new idealistic France being under the command of three leaders, 
Messieurs Desjardins, Recolin and Charles Wagner. And of the 
latter, in his capacity of idealist leader, a sympathetic French critic 
wrote, several years since: 

"No contemporary moralist has so sublime a flight, or such a 
fragrant freshness of sentiment as is reflected in his style and gives to 
it the charm of poetry" — while, later, in the same essay, we find a 
tribute to the broad usefulness of the Wagner philosophy among such 
as accept science for their religion. 

HAVING now noted M. Wagner's position as a French Liberal 
Protestant, and consequently as a disciple of the New Idealism 
of that nation, we should not fail to study briefly the spirit of 
Protestantism, as it has revealed itself during the existence of the 
Third Republic. For by this means we shall deepen our respect for 
the man who has risen to leadership in a movement little understood, 
and so occult as to cause itself to be forgotten in favor of its visible 



To aid us in our researches, we must take as our guides students 
who have had opportunity to observe the workings of this religious 
and moral force, either from within the borders of France, or from 
no greater distance than beyond the English Channel. Among these 
authorities none seems of greater weight than Richard Heath, writing 
in the Contemporary Review, who declares that any inquiry into 
French Protestantism is met at the threshold by the singular contra- 
diction that while the Protestant spirit has taken possession of France, 
Protestantism as a form of church life is declining; that, on the one 
hand, its influence so increases that Protestants are to be found in all 
sorts of positions of authority and power, far out of proportion to their 
numerical strength; while, on the other hand, the chapels of this faith 
are empty of worshipers and the ranks of its members are thinning 
with alarming rapidity. 

In proof of the statement regarding the disproportion existing 
between the feeble numerical strength and the great weight of influ- 
ence of the Protestant body in France, it may be well to ofifer a few 
statistics, since figures are more convincing than assertions. 

If, first, we note the composition of the governing body, we shall 
find it to consist of eight hundred eighty senators and deputies, among 
whom there are approximately one hundred Protestants: a number 
of the latter which numerically represents five millions of people, 
while, in reality, there are only six hundred thousand Protestants in a 
population of thirty-eight millions. According to this verified pro- 
portion, the influence of Protestantism in France is, mathematically 
speaking, seven times as great as might be expected from the actual 
number of the adherents of this faith. From the moral point of view 
the same influence can not be measured. But it may be said that the 
higher the sphere, the more abundant is its evidence, especially in 
governmental affairs: the ministries of public instruction, finance and 
colonial administration showing its wise action and guidance. 
Wealth, education, and industry are characteristics of French Protes- 
tants, and ages of struggle for existence have fitted them for attaining 
success in the very things of which they have been deprived. Partic- 
ularly is this true in all that pertains to finance, in which, for similar 
reasons, they ofifer a parallel with the Jews. For even in the days of 
their deepest depression, there were French Protestants able to loan 
money to the Government, and to-day fully two-thirds of the Paris 
banks are said to be in the hands of financiers professing the same 


religion. Like the Jews also, the Protestants having changed the very 
obstacles set in their way into means of success, have been most unjustly 
accused : even of helping to bring about the ruin of the great Catholic 
bank, known as the "Union Generale.'" Indeed, the parallel appears 
complete, when we remember the anecdote of Michelet, who ex- 
claimed: "Capital of no religion? That is a mistake. Capital is 

The great ability, which we have already noted in several depart- 
ments of social afifairs, has its source in the very force to think and act 
independently: in a word, in the power to protest. It has been well 
defined and summed up by a recent writer who says: 

"Wherever a certain mental force is required in France, there 
Protestants under the present regime of liberty, will be found in the 
front rank. How entirely representative of the creative force which 
has brought into being modern French republican institutions. Protes- 
tantism must be, is impressively shown by its arrival at the position of 
molding the mind of 'Young France,' independently of all religious 
dogma and of every form of denominational confession." 

The fountain head of these principles is that body of thinkers 
known as the "Alsacian School :" a natural title, since French Protes- 
tant theology long centered at the L^niversity of Strasbourg, from 
which the faculty professing it was removed to Paris as a consequence 
of the Franco-Prussian War. From this body proceeded the effort to 
remove public instruction from all clericalism and from every kind of 
denominational influence. These men have lost no opportunity to 
proclaim intellectual sincerity as the source of both private and na- 
tional character, and, in all things, have they endeavored to set up a 
high standard of morals before the rising democracy. 

The Protestant spirit, it cannot be denied, is the spirit of repub- 
lican France. It is recognized as such by deep thinkers who have 
traced its course from the Revolution of 1789 down to our own times: 
a long period during which it has never ceased its struggle to make the 
principles of liberty, equality and fraternity permanent under a stable 
and progressive governmental policy. But if it has been recognized 
by friendly thinkers and writers as a supreme power for good, it has 
been denounced by those hostile to it under the name of the "Protes- 
tant Conquest." From both -these points of view it is apparent that it 
is an irrepressible force, capable of adapting itself to the needs of the 
period : for while the Protestant spirit is constantly becoming stronger 


in republican France, Protestantism as a form of Church life and as a 
religious denomination, is gradually tending toward extinction. This 
latter phenomenon has been explained by a student of the question, who 
observes that the Protestant ecclesiastical bodies existing in France 
are not the real descendants of the Huguenot churches; that they are 
collections of isolated individuals having little cohesion and little 
corporate spirit; that this individualism in its dryness, its limitation 
of sympathy appears to be a direct result of the secure position into 
which such virtues as industry and thrift, and the advantages of be- 
longing to a highly respectable portion of the community have 
brought, or are bringing, the various individuals composing the con- 
gregations. The situation so outlined, would seem to oflfer many 
points of resemblance with the condition of the Anglican Church just 
prior to the Oxford Movement of 1830, when organic unity was at the 
point of dissolution, and the fulfilment of routine gave the only sign 
of life. But the parallel is not a complete one; for, while the French 
situation is attributable largely to the laity, the similar conditions in 
England were, to a great degree, due to the apathy of the clergy. The 
French Protestants, satisfied with things as they are, and dreading 
change, entrench themselves in their positions of material comfort, 
and concentrate their thoughts within a narrow circle of ideas. There- 
fore, to break through this entrenchment and to awaken the inactive 
forces within its limits, there is need of a strong, compelling power 
that shall bring in the warmth and fervor necessary to production, 
level the barriers between those who are thus fortified and the broad 
world outside, and vitalize the humanitarian movement in this branch 
of the Christian Church. To this work M. Charles Wagner comes 
especially prepared by his origin, his training and his temperament. 
Where Frenchmen of more subtile mental mold, of more characteris- 
tic national type, might fail, he possesses greater means of success. 
His logic gives place to his sentiment, which would never be the case 
had his ancestors been of unmixed Gallic blood. His primitive sim- 
plicity of thought could never proceed from one obedient to the 
formalism of the Latins. He is the more useful instrument in the 
hand of Providence, because two highly and diversely gifted races 
meet in him, the one balancing and correcting the other. While the 
other leaders in the Liberal Protestant Movement, his colleagues, mav 
serve the cause even to better purpose than he in all that pertains to 
things purely intellectual, M. Wagner's usefulness is a thing apart. 


His work lies with the people of all sorts and conditions. He alone 
can teach the rich to aid the poor, and the humble to love the great. 
By those who have heard him in America, — as he describes himself: 
"the Frenchman speaking in the name of God an imperfect, incom- 
plete English" — he will be recalled, as he often stands bent in the 
attitude of appeal, and pronouncing some simple sentence like the 
following: "My brothers, give me your hands, that we may lift the 

Within his own country his field of work, therefore, is a broad one, 
and most worthy of cultivation. For the Third Republic has sur- 
vived Boulangism, the Panama Scandal and — gravest of perils — the 
Dreyfus afifair, during the progress of which France seemed at the last 
gasp of her greatness. But already she has entered upon a new period 
of existence, and, to borrow the words of Casimir-Perier, it is certain 
that "she will renew herself, as Nature does." Also, as Deschanel has 
said, "the sap is rising," and it is for such men as M. Wagner to save 
the prospective fruitage from blight and deformity. The results 
already accomplished in politics and economics have been admirably 
summed up by a friendly English critic, whose statements are here 
admissible to quotation, since they are a tribute to the Liberalism and 
the New Idealism of France. According to this writer — the expert in 
modern history and diplomacy, known under the pseudonym of 
Calchas — "no great nation ever rose with more spirit and determina- 
tion from disaster than the French Republic has done from the defeat 
of 1870. The total cost of the war to France was probably more than 
one thousand millions sterling, and yet, the conquered nation has since 
built up an army which gives even the military strength of her great 
rival pause. She has maintained the second fleet in the world. She 
has achieved an immense work of colonial expansion: continuing to 
show in Algeria a triumph of administrative efficacy perfectly com- 
parable with the work of England in Egypt. She has kept her place 
in the van of civilized intelligence and inventiveness. The Third 
Republic has created an educational system far in advance of anything 
England possesses to this day. Her genius in physical science has 
remained undiminished : that fact in itself furnishing perhaps the most 
suggestive commentary upon the assumption of her mental decadence 
usually suggested by the neurotic excesses of her most ephemeral liter- 
ature. Her chemists and electricians are not made in Germany. 
She trains her own experts in every branch of modern technique. 



Her schools of study in the last three decades have reconstructed her 
conceptions of history. The decline of intellectual originality and 
vigor in every sphere of literature has been less marked in France 
since Sedan, than in Germany during the same period. Above all, 
the resources and perseverance shown in the work of fighting the 
phylloxera forms by far the most wonderful example of national 
fortitude and ability displayed by any people since 1870. The sub- 
stitution of the beet for the vine has, to a large extent, transformed 
her agriculture, and this process has been little less remarkable in the 
sphere of the world's husbandry than the simultaneous appearance of 
Germany in the economic sphere. La Ville Lumiere, with its three 
millions of inhabitants, is like a lamp that throws its profound shadow 
over the remaining thirty-five. The bright capital exaggerates in the 
eye of the world the weaknesses of the Republic, and conceals its 
strength. But the social structure of the nation has elements of great 
sanity and soundness. France is striking the roots of her national life 
wider and deeper into the soil with the lapse of time. Her wealth is 
not exposed to the hazard of international rivalry, or even to the vicis- 
situdes of war. It is exempt from German competition and from the 
effect of maritime enterprises like that of Mr. Pierpont Morgan. It 
lies in the inexhaustible treasure of her own soil, husbanded with infi- 
nite diligence and skill by her people, and renewed every spring, 
through the mystic operation of Nature." 

TO feed this spirit of renewal, to make it penetrate into all parts 
of France and throughout the social structure of the nation, is 
the purpose of the Liberals and the Idealists, as it has been 
their earnest work during the past decade or more. The chief instru- 
ments which they employ in their labor are intellectual sincerity, 
justice, and philanthropy, and these are surely the most accurate that 
exist. As is demonstrated in the quotation just made, which is a tabu- 
lation of pure facts, these reformers have not to deal with a decadent 
nation as certain critics contend. The internal enemies of France, 
although subtle and persistent, are such as may be overcome by 
patience, forethought, and fortitude, and even the nightmare visions 
of a perishing race, are not justified by reliable calculation. The low 
birth rate in France must be judged comparatively, rather than abso- 
lutely; for, if the latter standard be accepted, the Anglo-Saxons ap- 
pear decadent beside the Teutonic races, and the Teutons themselves 




beside the Slavs. Nor are the external enemies of France so formid- 
able as they seem: especially the Empire which deprived her of the 
Rhine frontier. Modern Germany possesses no power of assimila- 
tion and is in hostile contact with almost every stock in Europe : keep- 
ing persistently under the harrow of her government Slavs, Danes, 
Poles, Italians, Frenchmen and Alsacians, who but bide their time to 
resist tyranny. If among these races we take the Poles for an exam- 
ple, we shall find their national feeling to be as strong as it was at the 
time of their subjugation, although they have been annexed for more 
than a century; while the continental journals constantly print inci- 
dents which show an ee^ually hostile spirit on the part of other peoples 
oppressed by the same great power. Therefore, the Third Republic 
rallies about her all those races who either hate the pressure of the 
North German Empire, or who fear the extension of its power. 

So, all things well considered, the field for the labors of the 
Liberals and Idealists in France, is free, wide and fertile. They have 
but to proceed by modern methods in order to be wholly successful. 
The Protestant religionists have only to adapt and conform their 
church organizations to the traditional spirit of their cause. Their 
clergy have already proclaimed the duty of Christianity to consider 
the economic claims of the laboring classes, rather than to offer them, 
as in the past, a crust of bread and a strong dose of sound doctrine. 
At the same time, these students recognize the legitimate rights of the 
rich: seeking thus to build up a stable, social fabric, in which, as in 
Plato's Republic, the classes shall be thoroughly interdependent. 

One of these idealists — and one of the most useful and distin- 
guished of the body — it is now our happiness to welcome among us in 
the person of M. Charles Wagner. He can do much for us by preach- 
ing, in his individual way, against vanity, jealousy and envy, which are 
the special vices of republics. He further interests us as a type of 
man who could not be produced by the social conditions of America. 
German and Frenchman meet in him to create sentiment and the log- 
ical faculty, the joy of living, and the power to translate that joy into 
words of crystal clarity. He has the simplicity of the peasant joined 
to the wisdom and the experience of the savant. He is a true French 
republican, coming from the region which gave birth to the Marseil- 
laise, and, later, to those two eminent patriots, who together told, in the 
most appealing of literary forms, the story of the rise of French free- 
dom and of its betrayal by the Bonapartes. The work of Rouget de 



Lisle and of Erckmann-Chatrian was accomplished through the song 
and the romances which rank, among the most precious immaterial 
monuments of France. The work of Charles Wagner for his Father- 
land, by reason of the necessities of the period, is graver and more 
spiritual. The scene of his activity is in the midst of the "Young 
France" of the twentieth century, by the side of the student, the work- 
man, and the peasant. Removed from this place, he can not be 
rightly understood or appreciated. To make of him, or his books, 
the interest of a passing hour, as the fashionable world last year made 
"Parsifal," is to treat him and them lightly and contemptuously. In 
order that full personal justice may be done him, he must be recog- 
nized as an integral part of the liberal humanitarian movement in 

TJEFORE considering the question of a practical re- 
"^ turn to the simplicity of which we dream, it will 
be necessary to define simplicity in its very essence. 
For in regard to it people commit the same error that 
we have just denounced, confounding the secondary 
with the essential, substance with form. They are 
tempted to believe that simplicity presents certain ex- 
ternal characteristics by which it may be recognized, 
and in which it really consists. Simplicity and lowly 
station, plain dress, a modest dwelling, slender means, 
poverty — these things seem to go together. Neverthe- 
less, this is not the case. Just now I passed three men 
on the street ; the first in his carriage ; the others on 
foot, and one of them shoeless. The shoeless man does 
not necessarily lead the least complex life of the three. 
It may be, indeed, that he who rides in his carriage is 
sincere and unafifected, in spite of his position, and is 
not at all the slave of his wealth ; it may be also that 
the pedestrian in shoes neither envies him who rides, nor 
despises him who goes unshod; and lastly, it is possi- 
ble that under his rags, his feet in the dust, the third 
man has a hatred of simplicity, of labor, of sobriety, 
and dreams only of idleness and pleasure. 




CULPTURE is the one art whose value as a public 
decoration needs no argument for its support. It is the 
earliest of the decorative arts, for though architecture 
existed before sculpture, it was in carving that man 
seems first to have given evidence of the decorative gift. 
Its value as a record and as a memorial was so quickly 
learned and so generally recognized in the earlv centuries of civiliza- 
tion that much of the culture of past periods can be restored by means 
of the sculpture which they produced. 

But the modern observer of art — and the observer is much more 
frequently met than the student — need not go back to early times to 
learn its value, either in itself, as an adjunct to a building, or as part of 
a scheme of public decoration. Such are the three aspects in which 
sculpture has been employed, and the examples of its use are almost 
without number. The modern question — the question which con- 
cerns us of to-day — is not so much what has been done, but what les- 
sons can be drawn from past experiences for modern use. 

To-day, the advocate of sculpture is likely to be dazzled by what is 
known of the past and what has survived until now. He will exclaim 
at the countless statues of imperial Rome, and bewilder his hearers by 
enumerating the multitude of statues, large and small, on the cathe- 
dral of Chartres. Nor will his claim rest on statistics alone, for 
astonishing as the record of number is, it will be surpassed by the 
quality of the art value. 

There is small merit in the multiplicity of statues. Sculpture is 
the most difficult of the arts, and can be the highest expression of man's 
art culture. It can also reveal the utter incapability of the men who 
attempt to practise it. All sculpture is not good, but bad sculpture 
can not exist in a community in which the art sense has been so thor- 
oughly developed as to form a critical public. 

The problem for to-day, therefore, is not, how much sculpture can 
we have, but what good sculpture can we obtain, and display to our 
public? In the great sculpture periods: those of classic Greece, im- 
perial Rome, the Middle Ages in northern Europe, the period of the 
Renascence in Italy, the later Renascence in France — there was no 
need to instruct the people in the art, nor to tell them why and how 
they should value it. In those days, people worked and thought in 



art more than they do in our own times; more than they are likely to 
do again. Centuries long, art was the medium for intellectual ex- 
pression, and painting, sculpture, and architecture flourished marvel- 
ously. We can not hope that appreciation and cultivation of the arts 
will arise again in the same way. Modern art appreciation must be 
different from the classic, mediaeval, or Renascence appreciation. 
We can not and shall not think of art in the way in which it was 
regarded in those past ages ; nor shall we practise it as it was practised 
then. But we shall have modern appreciation, modern methods, and 
modern results; and the great problem of the day is for all art lovers 
and art workers so to develop and forward the cause of art that it may 
regain once more the high levels of the past, albeit it speak in a new 
and modern tongue, distinctively our own. 

We must not decry the art of our own time. Men can only do 
the best they can, and they can only take advantage of the opportuni- 
ties which are offered them, or which they may carve out for them- 
selves. A goodly step forAvard will be the recognition of essential 
differences in art — in methods and in work — in our day, from the art 
of previous days. Classic art, mediaeval art. Renascence art, were 
supremely great, because they were a natural product of their own 
period. If modern art is to be equally supreme, it must be equally 
spontaneous. But it can not be classic, or mediaeval, or Renascence, 
it must stand alone. It can only command respect, and win admira- 
tion, if it is modern. 

A word of caution is needful. Modernity in sculpture, or in any 
form of art, is not synonymous with oddity, with unknown and un- 
couth combinations, or forms. It is not strained or forced art. It is 
neither forced, nor a clever transcript of a respectable academicism. 
The living sculptor must not only feel that he is alive in the twentieth 
century. He must further express modern life, thought, feeling and 
culture in his work. It is an indefinable quality, but not the less 
essential because it is difficult to describe it in words. 

While it is an essential requirement that modern sculptors be 
modern, it is nevertheless true that the only real lessons in the sculp- 
tor's art are to be derived from a study of the past, by sculpture pro- 
duced before the nineteenth century. For if the eighteenth century 
sculpture of France is not all inspiring,that period produced much fine 
work which no present-day sculptor can ignore. The museums of 
Europe are thronged with masterpieces from the past: many of them 







of so supreme a quality that it would be folly to emulate them, and 
preposterous to seek to improve on them. Yet it is by contemplating 
just these works that the modern sculptor finds his noblest inspirations 
and is the more keenly inspired to greater effort himself. 

But he must know how to use his study and how to profit by it. 
The truly great artist has no difficulty in this. Michelangelo loved, 
above all things, to study the remains of classic art, but save for a few 
minor pieces which were frankly modeled on Roman works, his own 
sculpture was so entirely of his own day and of such penetrating mod- 
ernity that we to-day feel its living force and value. Here was 
rational study of the past, a proper appreciation of its works, a mastery 
of its secrets, and a final translation of its achievements into the mas- 
ter's own native tongue and that of his own time. No sculptor suc- 
ceeded in so assimilating what he saw, studied and meditated, as 
Michelangelo, until Rodin struck a new note in sculpture with his 
astonishing art. 

Supreme geniuses such as Michelangelo and Rodin — and I couple 
their names only as those of the most remarkable sculptors of their 
respective times — appear so rarely that epochs in art are named from 
them, and earlier and later sculpture is reckoned in its relationship 
to them. The bulk of sculpture is produced by the lesser men, for the 
very reason that the lesser men are more numerous. Many of these 
may. in themselves, be men of fine ability producing work of a very 
high order; but the larger amount of sculpture produced in any one 
century — for example — comes from chisels not handled by supreme 
artists. The more reason, therefore, for the study of great works by 
every one engaged in art workmanship! The artist, if he does not 
himself produce masterpieces, can at least familiarize himself with 
those wrought by greater hands than his, and improve himself as best 
he may. 

The duty of the technician in art is, therefore, very clear. That of 
the connoisseur and art lover is not less evident. No art is possible 
without a public to support it. The responsibility for art rests upon 
the people, and of no form is this more true than sculpture, since 
sculpture is the most public of the arts. The patron of the painter 
may hang his treasures in his private gallery; the architect is so con- 
cerned with business details that he is often— and many times with 
utter justice — not ranked as an artist at all; more than for any other 
artist the public is the patron of the sculptor, since it is in public 


work, in monuments and external decorations, that the latter has his 
most frequent rewards and wins his largest quotum of praise. 

And the true artist lives on praise and appreciation: to him it is 
more than the nectar of life. It is life itself. A painter may gain 
reputation, although his work be known and loved by a few only. 
The sculptor must please and satisfy many thousands, and win praise, 
or merit dissatisfaction from very many people to whom he is not even 
a name. His art is not only difficult, technically and artistically, but 
the conditions under which it is shown are most complicated, often 
most disheartening. 

There is need for change and progress. Modern sculpture does not 
suffer from lack of practitioners, nor even from lack of those who are 
competent. There are sculptors to-day producing work which, if not 
of the very highest rank, is yet so good as to promise durable reputa- 
tion for them. It is not men who are needed, but rather wider appre- 
ciation of their works, broader knowledge of their achievements, live- 
lier satisfaction in their capabilities. It is not the sculptors who need 
the spur, but the public, the great unwashed in art — if I may be per- 
mitted a barbarous expression — who know only what they like, and 
who like so little that it does not matter at all what their views may be 
on so important a subject. 

The very first thing the public needs to know is how sculpture may 
be used and what it is for. Like the sculptor, it needs to study the art 
of the past, but for its own reasons. The public needs to study art to 
learn what it really is, to understand its earlier relations to the public 
of past times; to apprehend the conditions under which sculpture will 
best flourish, and to realize that art is not summed up and complete in 
the art of the present day and generation. It needs to learn, learn, 
learn. And the more difficult it is to learn, the more the records must 
be studied. 

Art knowledge is difficult to impart. Many people think that 
they can get on without it, and many so exist. A very great deal of 
pleasure is lost thereby, but the ignorant ones never know what they 
have missed. Still, a little leaven leaveneth the whole lump, and a 
few energetic workers can often accomplish wonders. There is no 
need for discouragement. Our sculptors do not have the opportuni- 
ties enjoyed by other sculptors in more favorable times, but they are 
more and more winning their way. The question is not so much what 
they can do, but what opportunities the public will give them. 





HERE occurs in Mr. Barr Ferree's "Lesson of Sculp- 
ture," a passage which commands attention by reason of 
the truth which it so vigorously expresses. It reads : 

"The living sculptor must not only feel that he is 
alive in the twentieth century. He must further express 
modern life, thought, feeling, and culture in his work." 

Then, as examples of the spirit which he advocates, the writer 
adduces two geniuses, Michelangelo and Rodin ; saying of the former, 
that while he studied the antique with passion, he remained a modern ; 
and intimating of the latter that while his work is the synthetic expres- 
sion of all the great periods of art which have preceded us, its strongest 
quality is that which causes the spectator of his statues to feel that he 
is personally addressed in the language of his own time. 

Dissenters from Mr. Ferree's opinions will not be found among 
the critics, who agree that Rodin is one of the epoch-makers in his 
art, such as have arisen but a few times in the history of civilization, 
and that generations will pass, before the vitality of his works shall be 
exhausted, and they shall come to be regarded as museum objects, 
rather than as transcripts of life. 

But it must be acknowledged that Rodin occupies in sculpture 
much the same position that Puvis de Chavannes occupied in paint- 
ing; that he is in advance of his century, having "the future in his 
mind;" that his works are so simplified as to fail of popular appre- 
ciation, and possess little charm for eyes accustomed to the complexity 
of weaker presentments of ideas and afifectations of style. 

Still, they are so filled with power and life that even those who are 
unpleasantly impressed by them, are compelled to return again and 
again, actually to examine them, or, if they are not accessible, to review 
them in thought. This fact shows that they will long remain models 
toward which art will tend, thus becoming more direct in statement — 
consequently, stronger in appeal, more significant, and more impor- 
tant in the daily life of the people. 

The art of sculpture is coming to be recognized in America as a 
public servant of great value, as it has been done in all the distinctive 
periods of history. But in order to insure its maximum effectiveness 
it must be allowed to proceed upon a natural, original development. 



It is too much to expect that a second Rodin will arise among us in our 
own time, but his works should be explained to the people, and his 
influence propagated, so that his point of view of work may be gained 
by both sculptors and people. By this means, there might be created 
a public art which would instruct and refine; which would play, to 
some degree, the part sustained by it in classical and in mediaeval 

The quality so prominent in the work of Rodin, the point so neces- 
sary to be emphasized, at the moment when the question of municipal 
art is obtaining recognition as one of the greatest concerns of the 
people, is the force, the simplicity, the dignity with which his thoughts 
are clothed. They come out sharp and clear from their hard medium 
of expression. There is no entanglement of the idea in the marble. 
The critical spectator examines one of his statues, and feels himself 
in the naked presence of the principle underlying the work. The 
"Thinker" at the "Gate of Hell" is a man oppressed by all the vexed 
sociological questions of the hour, and smitten by the "world-pain." 
"The Kiss" is a primitive expression of passion which transmits to 
the spectator the tremulous joy quivering through the undulating 
lines of the marble and making it appear like warm flesh. "The 
Waves" are the very essence and personification of arrested motion. 
And so, the same criticism might be continued through the list of 
Rodin's works. In them the essential thing is always presented, 
stripped bare of all that hinders the eye and the thought. 

The opposite of these works is found in the sculpture of the 
seventeenth, eighteenth, and the first half of the nineteenth century. 
Westminster and St. Paul's, London, teem with portrait statues, 
which are but masses of trophies and symbols, and wherein the human 
element is lost in details of costume. The same is true and even more 
apparent, if possible, in the work of the decadent Italians found in 
the Campi Santi throughout Italy. In such sculpture, the art be- 
comes a dishonest public servant, inculcating only a love of display, 
and ministering to no human sentiment except that of family pride. 
On the other hand, when principles are seized, made visible, and 
presented in proper, tangible, enduring form, as through marbles dis- 
played in public places, their educative value, their moral influence, 
is incalculable. One condition only must be observed, in order that 
this efYect may be insured: that is, the works must be sincere, sponta- 
neous, a-light with the first fire of conception; never executed under 



the spur of necessity, or in obedience to some short-lived passion, or 
fashion of the time. 

In the role of an effective public servant, sculpture has been 
always direct, even popular, in expression. That is, it has always 
voiced the thought of the people, however dignified the form in which 
that thought has been clothed. Of this truth the Greek temple carv- 
ings and statues are a brilliant proof, as well as are the stones of the 
Gothic cathedrals, whose fagades were pictorial Bibles before the age 
of printing. 

To cause a return to this direct expression of principle through 
the medium of sculpture should be an important object of the munici- 
pal art societies which are multiplying throughout our country with 
the object of making the small common in the town of minor im- 
portance equally as educative, as morally influential, as the great 
square, or the decorative avenue of a capital city. 

As yet, as is inevitable in a country, young, large, and diversified 
in material resource, accomplishment in municipal art is confined to 
the older culture of the Atlantic seaboard, and to a few points of the 
Middle West. In these places, certain statues and reliefs have been 
erected which, national and original in character, bear favorable 
comparison with the best recent municipal art of the Old World. In 
the "Lincoln" of St. Gaudens, the "Puritan" of the same sculptor, the 
"Nathan Hale," of Macmonnies, force and simplicity are the charac- 
teristics of the artistic treatment. And it is safe to say that years, per- 
haps, centuries, will pass before public and critics will regard them as 
having lost through age their significance and strength. All these 
truly American works, considered in comparison with those which 
have preceded them, as well as considered absolutely in themselves, 
are steps toward the simplicity, the synthesis of Rodin: toward the 
presentation of a chosen principle under a form which is its natural 
garment, and the only one necessary and appropriate to it. 

The character of the ideas or principles chosen for presentation 
must receive adequate attention also, if we wish to make of sculpture 
a faithful public servant, as a source of inspiration to patriotic, intel- 
lectual, moral and humane effort. In this study, we may gain a lesson 
from certain foreign towns, as to the manner in which they have 
recently employed sculpture as a factor in municipal art and life. This 
lesson we shall find to be one of both incentive and warning ; of things 
to be emulated, and things to be avoided. It should serve to keep us 


within our own traditions, and to cause us to honor and commemorate 
the principles which gave birth to our nation, and which have since 
fostered its growth and preserved its constitution. 

Among these foreign towns conspicuous examples exist in Berlin, 
Paris, and the cities of Belgium, which latter are really separate city- 
republics united in a league for mutual advantage in political and 
commercial affairs. 

From the first example, Berlin, the lesson, in spite of its beauty 
and dignity of presentation, is largely one of warning. To begin: 
the present great city is an artificial capital. It is set in a marshy 
plain, and on the banks of an insignificant stream. Its population, 
within the last three decades, has increased astonishingly, not largely 
because of the legitimate development of its trade and industries, but 
owing to the prestige gained by it as the chief city of the German 
Empire, through the result of the Franco-Prussian War. From 
these facts it is easy to argue the character of the municipal art which 
has there latterly received the strongest of impulses. The first 
object of this art, directed by the Emperor, is ancestor-worship: a 
primitive instinct, it is true, but, in this case, so splendidly disguised 
that it appears, at first thought, to be only a successful effort to beautify 
a great city. The Siegesallee (Avenue of Victory) bears a significant 
name, and constitutes an act of homage, expressed in artistic terms, 
performed in favor of the forefathers of the present ruler. Further, 
it emphasizes the leadership of Prussia in the great federation of 
German States. The marble hemicycles, offering seats to prome- 
naders, from which they may study the portrait-statues of centuries of 
Prussian princes, are most skilfully arranged. The eye is gratified by 
the rhythm of the curves which succeed one another with wave-like 
effect; while the attractions of varied physiognomy and costume 
awaken, even in the most careless foreigner, an interest in the history 
which he sees illustrated with such masterful power. And this Ave- 
nue is but a detail chosen from a system of municipal art, splendid and 
formal, logically arranged, logically applied, and serving an impor- 
tant political purpose. Its effect makes for cohesion and assimila- 
tion : two qualities lacking, to a great degree, in the Empire, and yet 
necessary to the permanence of the organization. It can not act 
otherwise than as a powerful spur to patriotism and national pride. 
Yet the principle which it represents is not one indicative of high 
civilization. The art of sculpture is here used as a public servant to 



exalt the memories of men of blood and iron, to glorify war and con- 
quest. This system of municipal art is certainly mediaeval in spirit, 
although it is clothed in the most modern and learned of forms. It 
follows the policy announced by the young Emperor upon his acces- 
sion to power, when he called upon his people to remember that he 
was their Kriegsherr (feudal war-lord). Nor, in certain of its man- 
ifestations, does it fail to reveal that peculiarly German sentiment of 
mingled cruelty and religious instinct which was satirized by some 
clever wit in a telegraphic message purported to have been sent from 
a battlefield by the old Kaiser Wilhelm to the Empress Augusta: 
Ten thousand Frenchmen sent below: 
Praise God from whom all blessings flow! 

And this criticism is made in no carping or flippant spirit of cen- 
sure: rather with due recognition of all that paternalism is effecting 
for the cause of art in Germany, and, at the same time, with regret for 
the specific character which municipal art is made to assume in the 
capital city of the Empire. 

If now we turn to the recent public sculpture executed in America, 
we find at least the spirit of the work to be higher and purer. We see 
stress laid upon public virtue as a means of nation-building. And 
even when war-scenes are presented, as on the "Shaw Memorial," in 
Boston, an act of self-sacrifice, of supreme devotion to justice, is held 
up to the admiration of the people; war being incidental to the situa- 
tion, and the dignity of personal character the essential. The same 
spirit— that is, homage paid to a principle — is equally strong in that 
other work of St. Gaudens, "The Puritan," which stands in a public 
square in Springfield, Massachusetts. This statue can not do other- 
wise than keep strong in the memory of the people the significance of 
one of the most structural elements of our nation. It is a tribute to 
the power of stern virtues which is well ofifered in an age of mate- 

If now, we again turn to foreign cities, which must, for a certain 
time yet, serve as our guides in the promotion of municipal art, we 
can not do better than to make a rapid survey of the cities of Belgium, 
in which a learned national society is actively displaying that combi- 
nation of taste and practical sense characteristic of the race, and so 
admirably judged by Taine, in his "Art in the Netherlands." In all 
these cities, sculpture in the public squares serves the same purpose as 
the mural paintings on the interior walls of the town-halls and guild- 



houses. It is a voice telling of the power, material or intellectual, 
exercised by the ancestors of the present citizens, and urging these 
latter to repair decay; to reach out by commerce and colonization, 
after the manner of their forefathers; to repeat, in a modern sense, 
under the government of King Leopold, all that was accomplished 
in a mediaeval sense, under the old maritime leagues and the civic 
corporations. A few instances of the use of sculpture as a public 
servant in these cities will suffice for illustration. In Antwerp, the 
fountain in the Grand' Place recalls a legend of the port, which, kept 
constantly before the minds of the people, suggests to them the possi- 
bilities of the sea yet remaining unexplored, and urges them to new 
efiforts in their commerce already awakening the fear of London itself. 

In Bruges, now appropriately named the "Dead," and which, ex- 
clusive of the English quarter, is little else than a museum, we find the 
statue of Jan Van Eyck occupying one of the most important free 
spaces of the city, and again, in the Grand' Place, a strong appeal is 
made to the corporate spirit of the town by a sculptured group of 
guild-masters who, seven centuries ago, defended the rights and prop- 
erty of the citizens against foreign aggression. As in Antwerp, the 
idea of commerce is presented with emphasis in the works of munici- 
pal sculpture, in Bruges the efifect of unity, the honor consequent upon 
the successful pursuit of art, are visibly suggested to the people. In 
Ghent, a new idea is given prominence, because this town is, so to 
speak, a frontier within a nation : that is, a stronghold of the Flemish, 
as opposed to the Walloon, or French, element of Belgium. There- 
fore, calculated as an incentive to racial efifort, there rises in the 
cathedral square, a monument to the patriot-poet Willems, who, more 
than a half-centurv ago, in the earlv davs of the Kingdom of Belgium, 
awakened and led the Flemish Renascence, which is still engaged in 
reviving civic spirit, restoring civic art, and erecting the sectional 
dialect into a language worthy of current and literary use. Finally, 
in Brussels, always the stronghold of French influence, and for three- 
quarters of a century the capital of the country, we find everjrwhere, 
outside the royal quarter, sculptured monuments raised to the citizen- 
spirit of liberty, equality and fraternity. Altogether, the lesson in 
municipal sculpture offered by this teeming, laborious, practical, and 
art-loving people is one, which we, initiating a movement similar to 
the work of the Belgian National Society, can not afTord to neglect. 

But the final, the broadest lesson of this kind, which we have to 



learn before reaching a definite success in our task, is given us by the 
capital city of our sister republic, France. And this is partially due 
to the fact that Paris is the most important municipal body in the 
world, not excepting the Corporation of the City of London, which, 
although standing for the highest principles of citizenship, is neces- 
sarily limited in its functions. Paris, as the evolutionized city, as the 
strong survivor of the most overwhelming disasters, as a vigorous 
organism delivered alike from the slavery of monarchy and the slavery 
of anarchy, as the spirit of democracy made visible, has much that is 
valuable and necessary to teach us in the lesson of municipal sculp- 
ture. In visiting her parks and squares, in threading her old cane- 
fours, and turning the corners of her picturesque streets, wherever we 
turn, like Cicero in the Roman Forum, "we tread upon some land- 
mark of history." Groups, single statues, busts, and tablets every- 
where confront us as tributes raised to the distinguished men by the 
grateful country and city. It is the latest of these works of municipal 
art which are the most significant to us; for they show conclusively 
that France is once more the "soldier of God," seeking peace, and 
exerting herself to hasten the time when weapons shall be cast aside. 
These monuments celebrate in large measure, the victories of mind 
over matter, the conquests of philosophy, science, and art, the accom- 
plishments of humanitarianism. From them we should learn to 
pursue our own municipal art movement in a parallel direction, 
keeping within our traditions, raising in the proper places monuments 
to those who have "deserved well of the Republic:" honoring the 
Puritan, the Hollander, the French explorer and missionary, those 
who preserved the Constitution, and the heroes of our own day; above 
all, placing before the people with simplicity, strength and synthetic 
power, the principles represented by all these elements of good. 



CHARLES WAGNER lectured in the Craftsman 
Meeting Room, Craftsman Building, Syracuse, on the 
evening of October ii. His subject, "My books and 
my occasions for writing them," was, as usual, treated in 
English and without reference to notes. In his own 
language, M. Wagner is an extemporaneous speaker, 
preparing his matter carefully, and trusting to the inspiration of the 
moment for his choice of fitting words. In English, he follows the 
same method, as far as he is permitted by his command of our tongue. 
For a number of years, he has possessed a reading knowledge of 
English, and, in view of his visit to America, he has studied both the 
written and the spoken language. Therefore, while yet in Paris, he 
reduced to the form of a conference, or lecture, all that he wished to 
say to his foreign audiences, and it is from this fund that he draws, 
when speaking among us; remaining faithful to the general thought 
previously formulated, but constantly reaching out for new illustra- 
tions and figures of speech, as his facility increases. His lecture, as it 
is here given, is reported and unified from two occasions: M. Wagner 
having spoken on the afternoon of October i i,at the First Presbyterian 
Church, Auburn, and on the evening of the same day in Syracuse. 

On the latter occasion he was presented to his audience by Dr. 
Samuel R.Calthrop, pastor of the May Memorial (Unitarian) Church. 
This distinguished man who, to his profound learning, adds the broad- 
est human sympathies, showed his appreciation of the real work of 
the foreigner, by saying: "M. Wagner is one of those humanitarians 
who are attempting to save our young men, especially the youth of the 
Republic of France to mankind and to God. He is one of those lib- 
eral pastors who possess the happy art of working with all sorts and 
conditions of men. He has delightful relations with Catholics and 
Protestants, Jews and sectarians; asking only that they all labor for 
God, and lead just, pure and noble lives. It is with great pleasure 
that I present to you the author of the 'Simple Life,' the one who him- 
self proves how beautiful that life can be." 

M. Wagner then addressing his audience, said: 
In beginning, I must ask your indulgence. For the gray-haired 
man standing before you is the youngest public speaker who ever lift- 
ed his voice in your Republic. My gray hairs prove the Frenchman 


in me to be a mature, almost an old man ; while the Englishman in me 
has reached the age of but two years, and the English public speaker 
scarcely that of six months. The latter will behave in accordance 
with his youth. Serious accidents are to be expected. In using the 
word "accidents," I mean actual crimes. You will see me handling 
your strong language roughly. There will be wounded adjectives, 
lynched pronouns, verbs crushed, and some altogether murdered. 
But as these crimes will be the result of neither malice nor premedita- 
tion, I am sure that you, having recovered from your first horror, will 
grant me a general absolution. 

I shall divide the time which I am to pass in America into two 
parts; taking care scrupulously to fill every hour; for if time is money, 
life is gold. One part I shall devote to learning and listening, in that 
strenuous school of men which constitutes the American nation. Dur- 
ing the other part of my stay, I shall speak to your people from out 
my overflowing heart. 

What I have come to study here is not your tremendous activity, the 
ceaseless labor of your populous cities, the wonderful accomplish- 
ments of your industry, or the physical features of your far-reaching 
country. All these things belonging to you, whether they are the 
productions of Nature, or yet the works of man, awaken the wonder 
of the world. But I have not come to study things which may be seen 
by the eye, or touched by the hand. Civilizations, cities and laws are 
the work of men. They issue from men's hearts. "Heart," says the 
Bible, "is the well-spring of life." This is what I have come to seek: 
the heart of America. I want to discover the hidden power which is 
ceaselessly carrying you onward. I am a pilgrim toward the inner- 
most sanctuary where burns the sacred fire of your tradition, your 
faith, your ideals: a fire kindled long ago, and which you must tend 
carefully, in order that it shine upon you in the present, and lend its 
guiding rays to your future. 

I come to speak to you of the simple life, the true life, from 
which proceeds all my work, and which was born from my experi- 
ences. This new conception of life grows out of life itself. I am not 
a recluse, a sedentary reformer, a dreamer in a narrow cell opening 
his spirit-wings in an impossible Utopia. I have nothing in common 
with those who lament constantly that they were not born in the times 
of their great-grandfathers. I am the son of this time. I find it 
every day more fascinating. I love it for its greatness, its labors, its 



miseries and pains. And for the very reason that I so love it, I can 
not endure to see men wasting their strength, their money and blood 
for idle fancies. Of these idle fancies 

"I have drunk the endearment 
And eaten of the dismay." 
I have tasted the witchery of them and their intoxicating bitterness. 

LIFE is the highest gift that we have received. The chief lesson 
. that I have learned is that man should make a good use of his 
life. That gift should not be wasted. It must be made to serve 
the purpose which animated the mind of the Lord of Life when He 
gave it to us. 

In order to realize that purpose, life needs to be normal. It is 
normal when it is simplified, relieved from useless hindrances: effect- 
ing a maximum of beauty, justice, happiness, confidence in God, with 
a minimum of embarrassment. Simplicity is not confessed by signs. 
It is an aim, a condition of mind, a thing to be gained by conquest. 
To attain it many steps must be taken, many battles fought. Many 
times we shall halt. But we shall be willing to take the steps and fight 
the battles when we shall be convinced that there is nothing better 
than simplicity. All great things are simple: great pictures, great 
sculptures, great books and poems. Nothing is better, nothing is 
higher in all departments of life — in society, in political affairs, even 
in religion — than simplicity, which is the synonym of truth. 

HUMAN ideals find expression in the life of man, who is by 
nature spontaneous. Freedom is necessary to the child, that 
he may develop broadly. Whether gold, marble, granite, or 
simple clay be employed as material, how much depends upon the 
way the substance is handled! A bad workman can spoil a block of 
the finest marble. A genius can immortalize a block of common 
stone, or breathe a soul into a lump of clay. This bad workman, or 
this genius, symbolizes education in its different forms. Some chil- 
dren need to be watched and tended with intelligence, rather than to 
be chiseled into shape like a block of marble, or modeled like clay. 
Too often in our homes we build barriers about our children, and give 
them nothing from the outside. They must take our creed, our life, 
our ideals. There is great danger in ultra-careful education, in which 
everything is planned and mapped out at the beginning. Those who 



suffer most from it are the impetuous, warm-hearted children, who 
need a large share of liberty. To illustrate I will take my own case. 
My father was a country pastor, who allowed me almost complete 
liberty. He gave me the habit of going to church on Sunday, and 
explained many serious things to me; yet he did not destroy my spon- 
taneity. I remember that often, as a child, I went to worship the 
moon in a little balcony at the front of our house. But never did my 
father come to say to me: "Little pagan, why do you worship the 
moon? You must worship God alone, and He is a spirit." No! He, 
no doubt, thought to himself: "The boy is too young to understand 
that God is a spirit. Let him, for the time being, worship the moon 
and take it for a living being. Gradually, it will develop in him the 
consciousness of what is Divine, and when he is older, he will worship 
the Invisible Light of which all visible light is only the faint image." 
And he was right. 

This principle of education I have kept all my life. To look for 
myself, never to be afraid: to look alike at Nature, at God, at men, at 
things, at books, at thoughts, directly, and with great respect. As a 
child, I was naturally religious, and I never looked at an animal, a 
flower, a sunrise, a cloud, without lifting my soul toward God. So, 
now, when I need to feel the deep things of life, I turn backward to 
my childhood, and I look upon men and things : birds, flowers, heaven 
and earth with the eyes of the child that I was. I would not give up 
the pure memories, the serenity, the feeling of blessed safety, the senti- 
ment of universal intimacy, in which one has a brotherly feeling for 
the ants that run under the grass, for the sunbeams that play on the 
meadows: I would not yield such treasures for all the riches of the 

In the days of my childhood, I learned to look at things for myself ; 
to drink from the fountains of life for myself, without even the page 
of a book between my sight and the source, or a glass in which to 
convey the water to my lips. Oh, that men would come to the spring 
and drink for themselves! I have learned that there are two kinds of 
drinkers. Those who drink with their own mouths, and those who 
drink with other men's mouths. We have men thinking nothing for 
themselves and full of the idea that others must think for them. 
Nobody can drink for us if we are thirsty. We must drink for our- 

I believe that God has given to every man, as well as to every tree, 



his own roots, whereby he may obtain the sap necessary to produce 
fruit. I can never be satisfied with whatever is told to me about God, 
the universe, the soul; about the relations between the human and the 
Divine. I hold that there is no truth which can be obtained by proxy. 

SO I came into the large world of men and women with this 
method : to think for myself and to speak freely what I thought. 
And when the time came for me to speak, I found myself an 
isolated man. At the beginning of my ministry, I had no place, no 
pulpit. I was "a voice crying in the wilderness," but I remained 
true to the inner voice, the voice within myself. When I was tired 
and sad, I went away alone; then I heard the voice speak plainly: 
"Trust thyself," as your own great Emerson has said; then, too, came 
the words of that Greater One than he: "Fear not, I am thy helper!" 

I continued to speak as I felt, and soon the barrenness about me 
became fertile and living. You can be sure that this miracle will be 
wrought always, if you are simple, natural and good. Be true to 
yourself and God, and you will surely find your echo. In every man 
there is that which must respond, give echo, to the good. Let this be 
your rule: "Fear nothing and conceal nothing. Speak as naturally 
as you breathe and live. Unfurl your thought like a standard!" 

You will soon come upon kindred souls who speak your tongue 
and who love you for fearing nothing. When I was a common, 
unknown man, I soon found friends. I remember with joy those first 
gatherings in a small room in which thoughts tried their strength, as 
birds try their wings. They were not large audiences, but all were 
earnest men representing all classes of society: souls seeking eagerly, 
as I myself had sought so long, for a new and living form in which to 
express the old truths of faith and life. Soon these good friends 
began to regret that the words of the gospel of simplicity were spoken 
to so few. They came to me, again and again, to say : "You must speak 
to the world. You must write a book." I laughed and said that I 
could not. A book to me seemed a dead photograph, and I wanted 
words full of life. I did not want to be seated. I prefer walking to 
sitting, and riding to walking. Vigor, movement, action, life! that 
was what I demanded. But these friends argued with me that a book 
goes everywhere; that it becomes a companion and friend to people 
all over the world who can never hear the actual voice of a speaker. 
So, at last, I, who preferred to speak rather than to write, wrote a 



book. That was when I was thirty-eight years old, and my first book 
was a record of action and life, called "Justice." 

I had been a fighter from my earliest years. I dare say my experi- 
ence is repeated by the young men of to-day. My youth was a time 
full of battles; conflicts of individuals and interests; thoughts warring 
with one another; above all, floating in the air and ringing in my ears 
the cursed war cry: "I have nothing in common with thee." In 
religion, I was tossed about between the most exclusive, most con- 
servative, traditional orthodoxy and that species of thought held by 
both laity and clergy, which was the boldest, if not the most negative 
and revolutionary. By birth, I was an Alsacian. and the terrible war 
of 1870 was hardly over. So, I found myself in the focus of one of 
the most vehement international conflicts of modern history. My 
education had led me to understand both adversaries and to appreciate 
in each one of them the best he had. I was living among disinherited, 
denationalized, and most humble people, and I had for them the full 
sympathy of kinship. I found in them wisdom, justice and devotion. 
But I had friends also in the higher social class. Each side tried to 
win me over to its exclusiveness. I found myself constantlv between 
eager fighters: I suffered much, and all that I saw and felt I put into 
my book, "Justice," for I wanted it to be a plea for equity between man 
and man. I tried to show that we can do nothing w'ithout others, and 
for that reason we should be honest, true and just in our dealings with 
one another. 

IN 1892, I wrote my second book, "Youth." I have always loved 
young people, and I hope ever to keep this love alive in my heart. 
Further than this, I have respected the independence of youth, 
never seeking to exercise undue pressure upon it. Truly to love young 
people is to seek to understand them, to enter into their way of think- 
ing. In order to learn to know the youth of my church thoroughly 
I came in closest touch with them. At our meetings we discussed all 
subjects, but especially religion. Any one was allowed to declare 
without restraint the boldest and most subversive opinions, and all 
were encouraged to express themselves fully. 

Our one rule of discussion was: "Proclaim fairly and fully your 
own ideas, but respect the feelings of others!" As for myself, I inter- 
fered as little as possible, but when the arguments were finished, I 
said: "Now, gentlemen, each of you has said what he thinks. Allow 


me, in turn, to express my views." I read my as yet unpublished book, 
"Youth" : thus trying its effect upon juvenile spirits which were for me 
the epitome of the youth of the period. 

This book was crowned by the Academie Francaise, and at once 
grew popular. As I was leaving the session of the Academy, feeling 
very happy, a young printer — one of those who had learned to be 
perfectly frank with me — said: "M. Wagner, 'Youth' may be a great 
book, but it is especially a book for students and cultured persons. 
You ought to write another book, more concise, more simple, which 
might encourage those who are not cultured to effort, and fill them 
with noble aspirations." 

Reflection soon convinced me of the wisdom of my young friend's 
advice, and I wrote "Vaillance (Courage) :" a book which has 
wrought much good. 

The germ-thought of the book is : Take courage ! What is to do can 
be done by the invincible power of the human soul. Have an aim, 
take courage, and never relax, until you have conquered! Be just, be 
truthful, be honest, be energetic, and everything will open to you! 
It is evil which hinders. Avoid everything bad: bad action, bad 
thought, everything which prevents you from being just to your fellow 
man ! 

THUS I had written three books. But, as yet, I had no idea that 
I should ever write one on "The Simple Life." Things which 
are natural to us, part of ourselves, we are unconscious of know- 
ing. One of the most important things in education is that a man 
should really understand what he knows. Teachers should talk only 
of what is in their own minds. One can be very useful in teaching 
boys, if only one really possesses what he knows. I had been living 
the simple life, suiting to it all my projects and desires; but never had 
I purposed to write about it. The idea of the book came to me as T 
shall relate. 

One day I had to give my blessing to the marriage of a chamber- 
maid and a workman. To these young people — who had perhaps 
four or six friends around them — I spoke upon what should come first 
in home life, and in my accustomed way upon such occasions, with 
cordial sympathy for the young couple, and with entire simplicity. 
The chambermaid was in the employ of Madame Edgar Guinet, who, 
with Mile. Brisson (the daughter of the well-known French political 



leader, Ferdinand Brisson), was present at the ceremony. A week 
later, Mile. Brisson sent for me and told me that she was about to be 
married. In the course of an intimate conversation, she said : "I have 
a favor to ask of you. Will you make me happy by granting it?" I 
replied : "Certainly I will, if it be possible. What is it?" She said : 
"I want you to bless my marriage, and to repeat what you said at the 
wedding of the young couple last week." "Ah !" I replied, "I cannot 
speak in presence of the tvvo thousand people who will be at your 
marriage — some of them the highest and most learned of all Paris — 
the same words that I spoke to those si.x persons." M. Brisson, who 
had heard this part of the conversation, and who is a very simple man, 
exclaimed: "Pastor Wagner, why will you not make my daughter 
happy by speaking as you spoke before those six persons? I think that 
you cannot do better." I thereupon promised to do what both father 
and daughter desired. 

At the marriage there were cabinet ministers, deputies, members 
of the Academy, professors: all kinds of people whom we call select; 
and before those learned and rich persons I spoke of the simple life, 
just as I had spoken to the humble six a short time before. I urged 
upon my young friends my deep conviction that the true happiness of 
life lay in normal use made of living. My audience was very attentive, 
and the day following I received a letter from M. D'Armand-Collin. 
the publisher. He said : "I should be glad if you would write for mv 
firm a book upon the subject of which you spoke yesterday: the simple 
life." When I received this letter, an idea rose in my mind like a star, 
and I walked through the room saying aloud : "The simple life ! The 
simple life! This book is already written." I went into the street, 
and, as I walked, I indicated the heads of the chapters. When I 
reached the publishers, I said : "Here are the chapters for 'The Simple 
Life.' " He asked : "When will the book be finished," and I replied : 
"Oh, as to that I do not know. Give me time to write it! I must do 
it calmly." 

Thus, I had "The Simple Life" within myself without knowing it, 
and this book came to the life of to-day, like a sturdy young boy, born 
in the very heart of his birthday. 

What is in the book: The Simple Life? Only a little domestic 
counsel. Many people think that it is nothing for thinking people. 
The simple life? That is to have but one garment, with a rope to tie 
around it, and to return to the savage state. No! this is not the simple 



life. The book merely says that if in mind we are simple, then we 
shall life the simple life no matter what our surroundings. To live 
the simple life is to have the force to be men, and to accomplish the 
highest aim of our lives. 

Now we are here in the Craftsman's Meeting Room. This 
Craftsman is an artist. I will tell you how I understand what it is 
to be an artist. This room is full of simplicity and beauty; its 
lines are strong and rugged. There is one idea here expressed, 
and that one idea gives beauty, and is in itself beauty. All that 
is beautiful in Nature is simple. Look, too, at the enduring 
art of the ancient Greeks! It is all simplicity. The most beautiful 
songs are those of the people in which the soul of man shines through 
in the simplest words and in the simplest form. The highest eloquence 
in every period of humanity is the simple, spontaneous, emotional 
expression of what lies in the heart. A man unable to make gestures 
and having a broken voice, if only he be a good man, has but to say one 
word, and this word is immortal. Often has humanity been helped 
for centuries by such a word. It is the character that speaks. A 
simple word, with one or two simple men behind it, will give spiritual 
life to millions. 

Nothing is greater than simplicity and one may have it free. I 
plead for simplicity in the household. We are often slaves to our 
furniture, to our books, to our curtains, to our rugs, to our ornaments. 
Our garments are often the sign of slavery. I would criticise no one 
unkindly, but you all have seen the young man with the high collar. 
He cannot wear it comfortably, his neck is stretched, but it is the 
custom to wear high collars. There is no more tyrannous power in 
the world than fashion. This collar, higher than the neck is long, is 
only illustrative of what we endure, when we offend simplicity. If a 
convocation of rulers should seek to force such a collar upon an un- 
willing world, all young men would unite to fight against such tyran- 
ny, but fashion dictates, and they yield. Many of them, indeed, seem 
to be in the world for little else than to wear such collars. 

I cite this only as an example of what we do. A young boy 
should be simple. We should not "collar" him in any way. The 
question of our hearts should be : "What can I do for him : to keep him 
young; to let him develop, naturally, like a beautiful flower; to help 
him to become a good man?" 

We make errors because we do not see simply. It is as if the shoe 



should say: "The foot is for me," instead of the other way: "I am 
made for the foot." The teacher is for the boy, not the boy for the 
teacher. Youth should be kept away from the old dry pedant, full of 
the knowledge of books, and knowing nothing of Nature and the 
human heart — the boy heart. An illustration will further explain 
my meaning. One day, in France, I entered a public library, where 
I found the librarian alone, seated in a comfortable arm-chair, and 
reading a journal. But it was the delivery hour, and I asked for a 
book. The official did not reply, and continued to read. Again I 
spoke, when he, lowering his paper, and frowning, exclaimed: "Sir, 
you are disturbing the working force of the library." This man had 
forgotten that the books under his care had been collected for the use 
and pleasure of the people. He looked at things from a false point 
of view. He was not simple. He believed himself to be the master, 
rather than the servant of the public. He was the shoe to fit the foot. 

Simplicity should rule in everything. For this reason, I began 
my book upon "The Simple Life" with the episode of a bridal couple, 
who, according to the decree of Fashion, have all kinds of things to 
live for. Under such conditions, they have no time for quiet, for the 
pursuit of true aims and real things. And every day they begin their 
useless work anew. All is wrong with them. They should first love 
each other, and let things of minor importance, material things — • 
curtains, rugs, furniture — come after. 

If, in the army, the first man were a simple soldier and the last, the 
general, and if the simple soldier commanded the general, the army 
would be a strange one. So, in life, if that which is insignificant give 
the command, the result is the same. Such conditions complicate 
existence. To illustrate: we make a lamp, the purpose of which is to 
give light. We cover it with ornament, and, by this means, impair 
its lighting properties. Is that right? Which is of the first impor- 
tance, the ornament or the light? To care for the important is what I 
strive to teach in my book, "The Simple Life." 

This book, like a sturdy child, was not content to stay in France. 
It traveled to your country, to which President Roosevelt welcomed 
it with most kind greeting, sending also word to me, through Dr. 
Lyman Abbott, of the Outlook, that he should be glad to meet its 

Such is the story of my book. It grew out of the simple blessing 
which I gave to the workman and the chambermaid. From this 


proceeded Mile. Brisson's request, the publisher's demand, and the 
written book. If "The Simple Life" had not come into existence, I 
do not think that I should have ever visited America. 

We should ask ourselves: What of the future? What have we to 
give the children : those who come after us, who owe to us the light of 
day, and the teachings which are to make or mar their future? What 
have we to give them? Our civilization, in brilliancy and accomplish- 
ment, surpasses any that has gone before. But if we look to the conse- 
quences upon the human heart and soul, serious questions present 
themselves. Civilization can be a perfect instrument for making 
humanity better and happier, but if it be badly used, wrongly directed, 
it is destructive to peace, happiness, and the good of the soul. In 
looking at the mad struggle for material things, I remember a descrip- 
tion of the Sahara : "Oh, this great, barren, sundried, wilderness ! Oh 
for one drop of living water!" And as I see our civilization, which 
should be an instrument for justice and peace, becoming an entangle- 
ment and a bondage ; as I see so many things opposing Nature, happi- 
ness, noble life, charity for every one, I own frankly that I feel as the 
poet did in Sahara: "It is one great sunburned, dry wilderness." The 
soul of man cries aloud for one drop of living water to make a blade of 
grass, a flower in the wilderness: one flower of love, and one flower of 
contentment. For our children we must look at this question, and at 
this moment. Now is the time for preaching the gospel of simplicity. 
I come to give this message to you, as I have given it to my own coun- 
trymen. You are a nation of hurrying, overworked men ; yet I have 
looked into your hearts and they are true and sympathetic. You have 
simplicity in your history, in your ancestors, in your traditions. I 
remember the pictures of Washington, Franklin, the Pilgrim Fathers, 
and Lincoln, as I saw them in Philadelphia. These patriots were all 
simple men. I remember, with great pleasure, the simple man who 
is your president: a man of strenuous life, of warm heart and deep 
religious feeling; simple and sincere in all his acts, and therefore in 
his example. I have seen many of your best citizens. They are sim- 
ple, and you, as a people, will return to simplicity. You will not 
allow a false ideal of life to deflect you from your high ideals. You 
will make the conquest of the simple and the real. By this means you 
will not only be happy, but you will lead the life of the best and 

And beyond your ancestors, your history, your traditions, beyond 



your material prosperity, I have looked anxiously. I have seen 
there your national, American Ideal, such as your noblest presidents 
have expressed in happy words, such as you have symbolized in your 
flag: an ideal so pure, so high, that you would not embody it in either 
the form, or the color of things that fade and vanish, but only in that 
which is firm and immutable — the blue of the sky and of the stars of 
the firmament. In that ideal resides simplicity. In realizing it, you 
will remain true to your best and oldest traditions, to the purest of 
your history, and you will be ever young, drinking of the wellspring 
of eternal youth. 

The Simple Life is the sane life. It will remain when the vain 
glory of to-day shall be reduced to ashes. Its aim will endure, even 
when the stars of heaven, tired of their long watching in the night, 
shall close their eyes, like children who want to sleep. 

AND first, considered in itself, with its attachments, 
its emotions, its sacred treasure, the home is truly 
a sanctuary. Like divinity it has its believers, its faith- 
ful, its altars, its festivals, its rites, its mysteries. Peo- 
ple who no longer profess any religion, have kept the 
cult of the hearth : they believe in it, they cling to it, 
they live upon it. No sacrifice in its defence seems to 
them too great, an attack upon it is to their minds an 
attack upon the very fundamentals of life, and to per- 
vert or profane it is to commit the crime of blasphemy. 
It is sad that anyone should have lost that great lumi- 
nary of the soul, religious faith, but it is well if in the 
midst of this calamity he has been able to preserve the 
religion of the hearth. 






O the ancient Egyptians is ascribed the origin of the grue- 
some, although realistic custom of placing an effigy of 
the dead outside the case which contained the mummy. 
This effigy usually consisted only of the head of the 
deceased, which was molded from a composition of sand, 
gypsum and carbonate of lime. 
The Egyptian religion did not contemplate the decay of the body 
after death. The perishable remains were preserved by embalming, 
while the immortal spirit (Ba), as was believed, departed in the Sun- 
Barque, and was carried to the gates of the other world, in the far west, 
beyond Abydos. Should the spirit then be so fortunate as to become 
absorbed into the divinity (Osiris), it still would not lose all its iden- 
tity. It might yet return visibly in its terrestrial form, and it was 
especially to this end that the body was preserved as a mummy, and a 
statue of it placed in the tomb. Thus the features by which the person 
so represented had been distinguished from other mortals in life, 
would always be recognizable. 

Certainly, as far back as the ninth century before Christ, the cus- 
tom became general of incasing the mummy in a kind of cartonnage, or 
mummy-shaped shell, which latter was placed in a wooden coffin and 
sometimes in a stone sarcophagus, and it was on these cartonnages that 
the molded mask of the face of the dead, usually gilded, or otherwise 
colored, was applied. This custom, which appears to have attained 
its height during the years 664-525 B. C, continued through the Per- 
sian period (525-333 B. C.) , and, after the conquest of Egypt by Alex- 
ander the Great, up to the rule of the Ptolemies, by which time 
Hellenic culture had become firmly rooted on the banks of the Nile, 
and interwoven itself with Egyptian usages. Then, the Hellenic 
Egyptians also adopted the practise of preparing their dead for the 
tomb in the form of mummies, but, as the art of painting had suffi- 
ciently advanced to permit the production of fairly accurate like- 
nesses, portraits of the dead took the place of the plastic effigies already 
mentioned. This innovation is believed to have become generally 
established among the Hellenic Egyptians during the third, or the 



second century before Christ. Certainly, as far back as the latter date, 
many Greeks were embalmed and entombed according to Egyptian 
rites, and not alone in Alexandria, but in Upper and Middle Egypt as 
well, at Thebes, and other places. 

And it is from the burial-place of Kerke in Middle Egypt, in the 
province of Fayum (an extensive oasis fertilized by a branch of the 
Nile, and lying beyond the Libyan mountain-range on the west of the 
valley of the Nile) — a region which, in antiquity, was largely occu- 
pied by Greeks — that convincing evidence of the practise of placing 
portraits of the dead with the mummies has been derived, through the 
discovery of a collection of pictures found at Rubayyat, about twelve 
miles northeast of Fayum. 

The graves in which these portraits once existed had been ransacked 
by thieves who, in their quest for gold, destroyed the mummies and 
coffins, and threw away what was of no value to them. Included with 
this supposed refuse was a large number of portraits, several of which 
are here reproduced from illustrations prepared under the direction 
of Herr Theodor Graf, a merchant of Vienna, and the owner of the 

The chief town of Fayum, Medinet-el-Fayum, is only a short dis- 
tance from the ruins of Krokodilopolis, which under the Ptolemies 
was called Arsinoe. Here a flourishing Greek colony sprang up, and 
even later, under the Roman emperors, still maintained its prestige as 
the most important place in that district. 

To this discovery, therefore, we of the present day are largely 
indebted for our knowledge of the practise already mentioned, the 
period, and conditions of culture to which this art owed its existence, 
and the manner in which the paintings were executed. 

The most interesting feature of these portraits lies in the fact that 
apparently some of them are original life-paintings of Ptolemaic 
kings and queens. This matter will receive attention later at greater 

The portraits themselves are of varying degrees of excellence, and 
while some of them may be classed as consummate works of art, others 
are of very crude character. The difference is probably due to the 
fact that when the persons represented were wealthy, they could afford 
to employ high-priced artists, while others, less favored in this world's 
goods, were compelled to be satisfied with a cheaper grade of work. 
Again, there is good ground for belief that the best pictures belonged 



to an earlier period than the others; the latter showing variations in 
costume and peculiarities of technical execution not present in the 
former; while the wax colors (which will be explained later) are 
observed to be gradually superseded by distemper-colors. 

It seems altogether probable that the portraits in question were 
painted during the lifetime of the subjects, and were intended to deco- 
rate homes, just as we do at the present time. Great pains were taken 
to give as much individuality and realistic treatment as possible to the 
likenesses. This principle was faithfully carried out, even when it 
involved the presentation of unpleasing features: such as in the sixth 
illustration, — believed to be Ptolemaeus Euergetes, and evidently 
that of a man suffering from a contraction of the muscles of the neck; 
or, in the last figure but one, which is believed to represent Cleopatra 
Tryphaena, and, at all events, depicts a woman apparently grown 
prematurely old with sickness, if one may judge from the careworn 
expression on her face. 

Dr. Georg Ebers, who has made a careful study of the subject, 
accounts for the portraits and their connection with mummies in one 
of the three following ways : 

(i) The painter may have used the corpse as a model, endeavor- 
ing to give it a lifelike appearance. (2) The Greeks in Egypt may 
have been accustomed to have their portraits taken in the prime of 
life, the pictures which adorned the family living-room being at- 
tached to the mummies after the death of the persons represented. 
(3) The portrait may have been painted and hung during the life of 
the subject, and, after his death, a copy may have been made to be 
placed with the mummy. 

That the models from which these portraits were painted were not 
the faces of the dead seems, in Dr. Ebers's opinion, to be proven by the 
convincingly lifelike aspect of the heads, and there is no reason to 
doubt that the houses of the Egyptian Greeks were decorated with 
portraits of the living members of the family; for even in the time of 
the Pharaohs the great officials had portrait-statues executed during 
their lives, and these were subsequently placed in their tombs. 

Again, it is known that on the back of some of the portraits a layer 
of plaster was found, or some holes had been made ; which would tend 
to show that the pictures had formerly hung on walls, or in the case of 
the holes, that pegs had been used by which to aid in suspending them. 

Summing up this phase of the subject. Dr. Ebers expresses his 



See "History of Egypt," by Samuel Sharpe, Volume i, 

page I 


See "Classical Dictionary" by William Smith, 

page 624 

CLEOPATRA (51-30 B. C.) 


See "History of Egypt," by Samuel Sliarpe, Volume I., 

page 360 



See "History of Eg>'pt,"' by Samuel Sharpe, Volume 

I., page 360 

CLEUPAIKA 1K\1'HAE.\A (57 B. C. ; 
See "L'Egypte," by George Ebers, page 313 


opinion in the following words: "I am more inclined to believe that 
the Hellenic Egyptians were wont to be painted in the prime of life, 
to place the picture in the living room, and then, after the death of the 
person represented, that an artist was commissioned to copy it for the 
mummy. Thus, when a woman died at an advanced age, the portrait 
placed with the body showed her in her bloom ; just as we often see the 
memoirs of a lady of importance who may have lived to a great age, 
illustrated by a picture of her in her youth. . . . At the same time this 
does not exclude the possibility that, under certain circumstances, a 
portrait may have been removed for the purpose from the wall of a 

However, until further research has been made, it will be impos- 
sible to arrive at a definite conclusion on this point, and the matter will 
remain in doubt; although the weight of evidence so far seems to be 
in favor of the theory that the pictures were made during life, and 
removed to the tomb after the death of the person represented. 

The accounts given by ancient writers regarding the methods used 
in encaustic painting of Greco-Egyptian origin, are both scanty and 
indefinite, and the following statements on this subject are derived 
chiefly from the results of investigation by Dr. Otto Donner von Rich- 
ter, and from the descriptions given by Pliny. 

The latter states that he was unable to ascertain who first devised 
the art of painting in wax-colors, and of burning-in the painting. 
But he clearly states that in encaustic technics two operations follow 
one upon the other: namely, the painting with wax of various colors, 
and then the burning-in of the painting, which latter gave rise to the 
use of the word "encaustic." 

It further seems clear that, from time immemorial, there were two 
kinds of encaustic painting, or rather two processes employed with 
wax by means of the cestrum, which was a lancet-shaped spatula, re- 
sembling an antique plaster-knife, having a finely dentated edge, and 
a rather long handle, the point being somewhat curved. The mate- 
rial forming the base of these paintings was usually a wooden panel, 
although ivory was occasionally used for miniature work. This lat- 
ter was, of course, more expensive. The portraits with which this 
article deals, however, were all painted on wooden panels. 

The actual painting with wax was usually done without the em- 
ployment of heat, and without using the brush, although occasionally 
the wax-colors were melted over a fire, and then laid on with a brush. 



This latter process, however, was found to be very inconvenient, owing 
to the rapid congealing of the hot mass, both in the brush, and on the 
surface to be painted. Furthermore, it allowed no great precision of 
execution, and could be used only for painting in plain shades, and 
for hasty decorative work. The wax used in this encaustic work, 
known as "Punic wax," was prepared by boiling natural yellow bees- 
wax three times in sea-water with an addition of a little "nitrum," i. e., 
mineral soda, and then skimming it. By this means, the wax was not 
only bleached, but it also acquired a slight degree of saponification, 
which made it more suitable for combination with other ingredients, 
while it also rendered the wax soft and pliable when once it had 

In vermilion fresco-painting, a little olive oil was added to the 
wax, in order to prevent the latter from congealing too rapidly; but 
this was not suitable for cestrum painting alone, because, if too strong, 
the paint would be prevented from drying; whereas if the reverse 
were the case, the wax would not be rendered sufficiently ductile. It 
was therefore necessary to compound a mixture capable of transform- 
ing the wax into a soft paste, and yet capable of hardening in due time. 
The "balm of Chios" (the liquid resin of Pistacia terebinthus) was, 
according to Dr. von Richter, "the most obvious ingredient for the 
purpose." The spreading of the wax-paste with the cestrum was a 
very important part of the operation, and the fact that that instrument 
was finely-toothed, facilitated the equalizing and smoothing of the 
paste. The lancet-like point was useful in spreading out and blend- 
ing together the separate tones of color; the curve in the back of the 
implement performed the service of flattening out any undue promi- 
nences; while the point served to lay on the strong lights, such as the 
luminous spot in the eye, the eyelashes and hair. 

It is interesting to learn that Dr. von Richter has himself produced 
effects similar to those observable on the original portraits; but, as he 
admits, the picture attains its perfection only by means of the subse- 
quent encaustic process, in which the ancients used to hold a heated 
rod of iron, or a vessel filled with hot coals, near the picture. The 
rough edges of the furrows were thereby melted away, while an even, 
varnish-like gloss was diffused over the whole painting. 

A few of the portraits in this collection were executed, not with 
wax-colors burnt in, but in distemper, /. e., with water-colors to which 
a particular binding substance had been added, such as the yolk of 



eggs, or the yolk and white of eggs mixed, or fig-milk, or some other 
resinous material. Yet other portraits, and, among them, some of the 
best, were produced by a process combining the wax-encaustic and 
the distemper methods, and which Dr. von Richter named "wax dis- 
temper-encaustic." In this process, he explains, "no balsam is added 
to the wax, which is rubbed down in a heated state, with the yolk and 
a little white of eggs, also, a drop of olive-oil, and kneaded : the latter 
process being necessary to free it from particles of water in the egg. 
In this way, with the addition of the pigments, it is triturated to a 
paste, and, like the latter, may be worked with the cestrnm and burnt 
in. This method offers the advantage of allowing a few finishing 
strokes and shades to be added with the brush and the common egg- 
distemper. The surface of the picture does not so acquire the gloss of 
the wax-balsam paste; it remains more dull and fresco-like, as may be 
observed even now in the originals ; although the latter have lost some- 
thing of their first gloss from being so long buried in the sand." 

The illustrations accompanying this article are, as already indi- 
cated, representations of some of the portraits in Herr Graf's collec- 
tion, and the photogravures from which they are reproduced have 
been furnished by him for use in this article. 

Particular stress is laid by Herr Graf on the likeness which exists 
between several of these portraits and the heads of the Ptolemies on 
coins and cameos: a resemblance which has been confirmed by some 
of the most prominent artists and men of science in Europe. 

Some of these coins and cameos are reproduced here in connection 
with the portraits which they resemble. 

Making reference to these similarities, Herr Graf in a recent let- 
ter to the writer says : 

"So many striking resemblances in a single collection of portraits 
discovered in one place of burial (Kerke in Middle Egypt), cannot 
possibly be the result of chance, and the fact that most of them bear 
insignia of royalty, such as hyacinth-purple, gold crowns, bandoliers' 
— distinctive marks of the priests of Isis, etc. — proves the correctness 
of my assumption." A list of celebrated artists then follows, and 
these, he adds, have compared the pictures and coins, and are con- 
vinced that in the former we have the portraits of the Ptolemaic kings 
and queens, painted from life. He then quotes from a letter received 

' Bands, usually ot leather, worn over the right shoulder and passing under the left arm. 


from Prof. C. von Zumbusch, who writes as follows : "On comparing 
picture 28 (the last illustration in this article) with the bust and medal 
of King Perseus, I find such a strong resemblance between them, that 
I am convinced that they represent one and the same person." 

It seems reasonable that members of royal families should have 
engaged the services of only the most renowned artists to paint their 
portraits, and these were doubtless Greek painters who practised their 
art in Alexandria. 

The portrait of King Perseus, which, in some respects, is the most 
striking one in the collection, was produced in ancient Greece, as it 
represents him when much younger than he appears in the marble 
bust from the Borghese Collection (the last illustration in this article) , 
now in the Louvre. 

The following descriptions of the portraits here shown are abbre- 
viated from the catalogue of the collection: 

The first portrait (Ptolemaeus Philadelphus?) is that of a man of 
high birth. The hair is encircled with a golden wreath of laurels, 
while across the breast is a narrow, scarf-like, red ribbon, studded 
with gold and silver buttons. The head seems to be painted in en- 
caustic with the cestrum and the garments in the same manner, but 
with the brush. 

The second picture (Ptolemaeus Soter?) shows a man's head, 
florid, and full of life. From the left shoulder, beneath dark-blue 
upper drapery, a red sash studded with gold buttons extends to the 
right hip. The head is painted in wax-distemper with the cestrum 
and the drapery in distemper, with the brush. 

The features of the third portrait (Cleopatra?) show a pro- 
nounced Semitic type. Large ball-shaped ear-rings and neck-orna- 
ments are represented, the dress being of a dark purple. Over the 
shoulders are worn black stripes edged with gold. Both the head 
and garment are here painted in the encaustic style with the cestrum. 

In the fourth illustration is shown the portrait of a handsome 
woman of high birth (Berenice, wife of Ptolemaeus Euergetes?), 
whose delicate complexion, lustrous eyes, oval face, etc., combine to 
form a picture of great beauty. She wears a diadem of gold, and 
heavy golden ornaments adorned with various colored stones. The 
whole picture is painted in distemper with the brush on a chalk 

The fifth portrait (Ptolemaeus Philometer?) is that of a man 


wearing the golden wreath, scarf-like ribbon, and a blue upper gar- 
ment; the costume denoting a high dignitary. The head and gar- 
ments are executed in encaustic, the former with the cestrum, the latter 
with the brush. 

The next one shown, and believed to represent Ptolemaeus Euer- 
getes, is the least pleasing of all; but it attests the fidelity with which 
the artists discharged their duty. The peculiar posture of the head 
was doubtless lifelike, and due to a morbid contraction of the cervical 
muscle. This fidelity to nature is, perhaps, the most interesting lesson 
taught by this particular picture. 

The last portrait but one is evidently that of a sick woman. Her 
appearance is that of a person suffering from a severe organic disease, 
probably dropsy. The process used in the picture is encaustic; the 
head being executed with the cestrum and the costume with the brush. 
This is another good example of the evident intent on the part of the 
original artist to render the features faithfully. It is believed to 
represent Cleopatra Tryphaena. 

The concluding portrait, believed to represent Perseus, King of 
Macedonia, is evidently a highly realistic likeness. The penetrating 
glance and the closed mouth tell of self-satisfied consciousness of 
strength. This portrait is produced by a combination of processes. 
The head is painted in wax-distemper with the cestrum, while the 
garments, and also the hair, show the stroke of the brush. 



jlHAT is virtually a museum of Colonial and Revolu- 
tionary Handicrafts has been established in the old 
Ellsworth Mansion, at Windsor, Connecticut, by the 
Daughters of the American Revolution. As yet, only 
a beginning of the enterprise has been made, and there 
are certain minor faults of system noticeable in the 
arrangement of the collections, in the cataloguing, etc. But these, 
without doubt, will disappear with time, and there is so much to 
praise, that these slight errors should be passed over in silence. The 
house itself is most interesting, in both structure and location, being 
situated in an attractive region, and looking out upon broad meadows 
whose fertility attracted early settlers over the Bay Path, from Dor- 
chester, in the neighboring colony of Massachusetts. 

The promoters of the enterprise, beginning with no definite scheme 
of museum-making, actuated by historic and patriotic, rather than by 
artistic impulses, have yet succeeded in almost perfectly presenting a 
principle which has been the subject of much recent discussion in 
European art-centers. There, as is well known, attention has been 
given of late to the reproduction of the surroundings in which great 
works of art originally stood, and for which they were created; this 
plan having been followed in recognition of the plea made bv numer- 
ous experts, among whom is Dr. F. A. Bather, that artistic and educa- 
tive ideas are sure to be gained through such a policy. The institu- 
tions especially favoring this scheme are those at Hamburg, Gothen- 
burg, Berlin, and especially the National Bavarian Museum, at 
Munich, in which one finds rooms designed in the styles of various 
periods and nationalities. 

The success of these European undertakings is doubtful, in cases 
in which the proper surroundings for a work of art must be recon- 
structed in buildings which have been erected from machine-treated 
materials, and are, therefore, subject to artistic limitations. 

Furthermore, as has been suggested by a distinguished American 
museum expert, the plan to reconstruct the original settings of works 
of art implies something of a doubt in the mind of its projector. This 
critic questions the adequacy of a museum to accomplish its proper 
educational and preservative aims. A museum, according to the 
more conservative school of authorities, is intended, not so much to 



enhance the beauty of its collections, as to maintain them for the ben- 
efit of the people, and not, in any way, to interfere with their mission. 
In other words, a certain neutrality of environment is all that can be 
expected in a modern museum. A lack of good sense and judgment 
is shown — so say the conservatives — when collections of Japanese art 
are exhibited in rooms that, at best, can only superficially resemble the 
compartments of a Japanese house; or, when mediaeval paintings are 
displayed upon a background which does not reproduce the spirit of 
the days of chivalry. 

When, however, it is possible to secure a building erected at nearly 
the same period, and under the same artistic inspiration as the objects 
to be exhibited, the value of the background so obtained is unques- 
tionable. The Ellsworth Mansion is an object lesson in a special 
kind of museum-making. For, in spite of some slight changes wrought 
by time, the old house, set in a landscape which has not been greatly 
modified during a century or more, still deserves the praise given it by 
its original owner, Chief Justice Ellsworth, of the Supreme Court of 
the United States, who once handed down the following original 
decision : 

"I have visited several countries and I like my own the best. I 
have been in all the States of the Union, and Connecticut is the best 
State; Windsor is the pleasantest town in the State of Connecticut, 
and I have the pleasantest place in the town of Windsor. I am 
perfectly content to die on the banks of the Connecticut." 

The pleasantest place in the pleasantest town of the best State of 
the old days — an era when, if we may draw conclusions from the high 
character of popular arts, life was better ordered than it is to-day, 
when people were happier and the strenuous life less evident; when 
time was abundant in the twenty-four hours for doing a few things 
well and for giving attention to the normal human need of rest and 
recreation — what a terrestrial paradise must this have been! Everv 
stick of old timber in the Ellsworth house bears witness to a period of 
honest, enthusiastic craftsmanship, free from undue commercialism. 

The house, which exists in an almost perfect state of preservation, 
has lately been made easily accessible to visitors by a newly constructed 
trolley-line of the Springfield & Hartford Street Railway Company. 
The transformation of the house into an art museum of first impor- 
tance is due to the foresight of the Connecticut Chapters of the Daugh- 
ters of the Revolution, and to the generosity of the heirs and descend- 



ants of Chief Justice Ellsworth. The homestead was given over to 
the patriotic order, October 8, 1903, when Mrs. Sara T. Kinney, State 
Regent, accepted the deeds from Mrs. Delia Liman Porter of New 
Haven; the property being presented by the heirs under the sole con- 
dition that it should be preserved, intact. 

Visiting it from Hartford, one goes out by trolley, along Windsor 
Avenue, through the waving tobacco fields to the pleasant Green, once 
known as the Palisade, the central portion of the historic town of 
Windsor. Thence, a journey of two miles more, over the highway 
leading to Windsor Locks, brings one to the historic mansion. From 
Springfield, one can ride down along the west side of the Connecticut, 
through the historic towns of Agawam and Sufiield, or, on the east 
side, as far as Warehouse Point, walking across the old toll bridge to 
Windsor Locks. 

The approach to the house, the fine columns, the admirable door- 
way, with its antique brass knocker, awaken expectations, which are 
amply satisfied within. On every hand there are evidences of the 
wisdom of creating this museum of the colonial crafts in a colonial 
mansion of the best type. One cannot but feel that owing to the grow- 
ing interest in handicrafts in this country some crafts workers may be 
led to establish themselves in the beautiful Connecticut Valley, where 
they can have daily access to such a treasure house as this museum 
already is; the richness of which will, no doubt, be increased as time 
passes. Some manufactures are carried on at Windsor Village, and 
there are also large industrial plants at Windsor Locks, two miles and 
one-half above; but the immediate region is one of great pastoral 
charm, and capable of inspiring with contentment any handicraftsmen 
who might choose it as the place of their labor. One can easily pic- 
ture a community of workers in certain art industries, as forming 
itself here, and finding a constant incentive to effort in the good work- 
manship of other days. 

Whether such a colony will ever be established in Windsor is a 
problem of the future; but there is certainly at present no better 
opportunity anywhere for studying the arts of our ancestors. Every 
one of the rooms open to the public contain priceless specimens. In 
the main hall, one notes chairs of various periods of craftsmanship, 
and in one corner, a magnificent tall clock, given by the Elizabeth 
Clarke Hull Chapter of Ansonia. Along the floor runs a strip of 
woven rag carpet, not indeed an old fabric, but made in the old time 







way from strips of carpet which have been in the house these many 
years. All the floor coverings of the mansion are of this character, 
and they add much to the beauty of the setting. 

The main drawing-room contains several historic pieces. A 
rocking-chair of very good shape invites indulgence in the characteris- 
tic American habit. It formerly belonged to a Revolutionary soldier 
from Windsor, and one may be sure that he enjoyed many comfortable 
hours in it, after the stress of war had passed. There are numerous 
other chairs, and a tall bookcase of highly polished mahogany, con- 
taining a little library of volumes pertaining to Connecticut history. 
This room further contains a bust of Chief Justice Oliver Ellsworth, 
reproduced from the one in the Supreme Court Room in Washington. 
Here, also, one sees a handsome lowboy of 1710, which was once the 
property of the Chief Justice's mother, Mrs. Jemima Leavitt Ells- 
worth, who afterward married Ebenezer Grant of East Windsor, and 
died in the old Grant house, across the Connecticut, February i, 1790. 

Every room in the mansion is filled with interesting surprises. In 
the little sleeping chamber off the drawing-room, on the ground floor, 
one pauses before a delightful sampler, admirable in color, tone and 
design. On an accompanying card appears this inscription: 

"This sampler was worked by my great-grandmother, Ann Cates, 
who was born at Stapleton County, Gloucester, England, March 25, 
1794, and came to this country October, 1836, and settled in Thomp- 
sonville. Conn. (Signed) Miss A. E. Holman." 

In this room there are writing desks, large and small, the old 
Ellsworth library mirror with ornate but not pretentious carving, and 
a tall mahogany run-around. The mention of this last piece may 
excite curiosity. It consists of a long stick, running through a series 
of circular discs set about six inches apart; each one being smaller 
than the one beneath it. The visitor who does not understand the use 
of the article, learns that it is, in effect, a large portable tea-tray. 

The great dining-room, across the main hall from the drawing- 
room and opposite to it, gives one a particularly favorable idea of 
colonial craftsmanship. The articles of furniture include a fine 
carved sideboard and dining-table of mahogany, with chairs of the 
same wood, in various styles of upholstery, and generally good in line. 
In this room and in the little breakfast room, which is adjacent, one 
finds a good collection of objects in pewter, all fine in tone, and some 
admirable in shape. Two cups, one from the pewter service of the 



First Church, at Lebanon, and the other a kind of tankard, stand side 
by side on the mantelpiece. Both have that grace of outline which is 
the despair of the modern stein-maker. The corner cupboard in the 
breakfast-room, was originally the property of Mrs. Jemima Ells- 
worth Grant. It contains about fifty articles in pewter and china. 

The main hallway up stairs is attractively arranged with various 
kinds of chairs and other furniture, and in the front room, at the right 
of the hall, appears the celebrated wall paper, which was brought by 
the Chief Justice from Paris in 1802, and still retains its freshness of 
coloring. It came in twenty-six inch sheets instead of in rolls, and 
these sheets had to be pasted, one by one, upon the wall. In this room 
and in the chamber opposite are great four-poster beds, spread with 
the best specimens of the colonial weaver's art. Beside one of these 
is the quaint mahogany cradle in which several generations of young 
Ellsworths have been rocked. The two dolls now reposing in the 
cradle are to represent the Ellsworth twins, who were born shortly 
after President George Washington made his memorable visit to the 
house, and rocked the older children on his knee, while singing his 
favorite song: "The Darby Ram." 

What is known as the east chamber contains a collection of ap- 
paratus for weaving and spinning, and implements for use in other 
crafts. Among these objects is an old loom, recently brought to the 
mansion from one of the towns on the lower Connecticut, upon which, 
according to tradition, was once woven a suit of clothes worn by 
George Washington. Fine old spinning wheels, flax wheels, distafifs, 
and many specimens of the metal worker's art make the room very 
useful for the study of craftsman's tools which were used in Revo- 
lutionary days. 

The Ellsworth mansion is now so easily reached from either Hart- 
ford or Springfield by trolley, that it is certain to become better known 
in the future. Surely no craftsman, who wishes to become familiar 
with a large number of the best specimens of colonial workmanship, 
can afiford to be ignorant of this collection. Interesting as it now is, 
its value will be greatly increased, when all the exhibits shall be prop- 
erly catalogued and labeled in accordance with the best museum prac- 
tise. And this work should be accomplished without undue delay 


The Building of the Barn 



There is a clamor of hammers striking nails into resounding 
wood, and of trowels clinking against stone, here where 
they are building the great stone barn. 

It is the joyful noise of creation. 

They are in haste to close it in, so that it may be launched in time 
to carry in its hold the ripening harvest of hay, and rye, 
and wheat, in another fortnight. 

Though the carpenters are still at work within, and the masons 
finishing the east wall, yet the slaters have already half 
covered the long gable. 

The roof-timbers stand out like the ribs of a ship, with keel 
turned skyward, destined, we hope, to sail down the 
years-to-come for a century or two, and to bear many an 
annual cargo of corn on its way from meadow to kitchen 
and manger. 

Who knows but that under more brotherly skies it may become 
a communal barn, the centre of some better kind of great 

The carpenters are flooring the main deck of the great farm- 

Half a dozen of them, on their knees, are driving long wire 
nails into the smooth white boards. 

Their left hands are full of nails, and they thrust them into the 
pockets of their aprons for more. 

It takes four or five strokes of the hammer to send the nail home, 
and each series of strokes forms a little musical motif of 
itself in the rising scale, with a dull thud at the end like 
a hand muffling the chords of an intrument. 

The hollow roof, partly open to the sky, reverberates every note. 

Two men are planing and sawing boards to proper dimensions 
on a pair of wooden horses, and the overseer is balancing 
himself on the bare beams and measuring the spaces with 
a footrule. 



The hoarse drone of the saw grows lower and lower, until the 
end of each board drops, splintered at the corner, on to 
the floor. 

At the end of the barn we see the masons at worfi near the top of 
the narrowing wall, on a scaffold raised inside the 

They stand in relief against the sky, like a frieze. 

A cart, laden with rough stone, is backed up beneath them, and 
the teamster, standing on the load, lifts a stone with 
difficulty, and hands it up to two of the masons. 

A workman brings mortar and cement by the hodful up an 
inclined plane. 

There are two other masons engaged in laying stone: 

One is a good-looking youngster just free from his apprentice- 
ship, and evidently proud of his craft; 

His cap is jauntily tipped over his curly hair, and he has stuck 
a geranium in the buttonhole of his waistcoat; 

He looks as if lie were thinking of the village girls, but not 
enough to interfere with his work, and he taps his trowel 
against the stone, harder and more frequently than is 
necessary, as he slashes the mortar into the crevices. 

The master mason is setting a large stone at the corner, aligning 
it with the cord stretched along the wall above it, with 
blows from the handle of his tool ; while he bends over 
and looks down the precipice outside, and then scrapes 
off the oozy, bulging line of mortar and deposits it on top 
of the stone, the back of his head nearly touching the 

We must go outside to watch the slaters on the roof. 

There are three of them up there, with their tools playing their 
own kind of music on the thin slate. 

The little grey-bearded Scotchman moves up and down, sitting 
and kneeling, from gutter to ridge, like a kobold. 

1 66 


Two hoys bring the slate up a long ladder from the ground, 
piling it on their left shoulders, and mounting slowly 
round by round. 

The old man takes it from them, weighs each slate in his hand ; 
giving it a finishing touch at the edges with his slate- 
hammer, and then, knocking two holes in it with the 
sharp butt-end for the fastenings, he passes it on to his 


There is much more here than a stone barn a-building, and a 
handful of workmen. 

The fires are here that welded the clay into blue-stone and slate 
in Palaeozoic ages. 

The forests of yellow-pine of Georgia that furnished the timber 
are here, and the great primeval trees from whose cones 
those forests sprang. 

The men are here who first deserted their mountain caverns and 
built the earliest stone-cave in the open. 

The man is here, too, who shaped the first knife of flint, and he 
who laid if aside for iron, and the one who first imitated 
thorns in metal and dreamed of nails, and the original 
tamer of horses, and the framer of ladders and modeler 
of wheels. 

Vulcan is here and Tubal-Cain and Thor and all the great 
artisans and inventors. 

The new stone barn is indeed the workshop of gods and demi- 
gods, and their very temple. 

It is rooted, nave, transept and choir, in the inmost heart of the 
first Creation. 

Here converge all the forces of the past and the thoughts of 
every epoch. 



Our materials, tools, minds, bodies, instincts and aspirations are 
all a heritage, and heirship seems to be our chiefest 

We are at the narrow neck to which all the sands of eternity are 
crowding and through which they are dropping. 

And as all the past led down to our barn, so the future spreads 
out before it. 

How many generations of horses and kine, brothers and bene- 
factors of men, will be comfortably housed in the crypt 
of this temple! 

How many animals of all kinds, two-legged and four-legged 
and with and without feathers, will it feed! 

How it will sow life broadcast: life which will swell out forever 
widening in geometrical progression! 

And when, sooner or later, its final voyage is over, what new 
creative forces will issue from every plank and seam! 

The stones and slate, built into new buildings, or ground into 
busy roadways, the wood blazing in winter fireplaces, 
the smoke and dust absorbed again by new forests, and 
merged into new geological strata, and all surely saved 
forever in some strong-box of the world's treasure-house, 
and forever bearing interest! 

This is no mere stone barn. 

It is a link in the chain of creation, offspring and ancestor of all 
the ages. 

We have the whole universe with us to-day: for all the past is 
here working for all the future. 




HE objects in gold- and silver-smithing and certain pieces 
representing the jeweler's craft, shown by Tiffany and 
Company, at the St. Louis Expositions, form a char- 
acteristic and suggestive collection. This display more 
than sustains the dignity of the old house. It is no mere 
succes d'estime, recalling former brilliant accomplish- 
ments of the exhibitors, and, because of these, winning public favor. 
It indicates a direct and very noticeable advance in artistic quality of 
design, and in technique, together with a breadth in choice of subject 
most agreeable to meet, since it acknowledges the claims of both his- 
torical and purely modern art. It shows the exhibitors to be con- 
servative, and yet open to such new ideas as appear legitimate, and 
promise development. 

To certain persons anxious for the rise of a purely American art — 
fine and industrial — which shall occupy the field to the exclusion of 
all transplanted species, the objects in gold- and silver-smithing seem 
too close to foreign traditions, and such as might have been produced 
by any European house of distinguished standing. But while the 
stricture is true in its last statement. Tiffany and Company can not be 
regarded as an American firm, but simply as one having its principal 
seat in America. Their resources and relations upon the continent are 
as extensive as those of any of their foreign rivals, and they have, like 
them, received ample recognition from all the international exposi- 
tions of the last half-century, as well as royal appointments, and the 
decorations of orders of merit. Therefore, they have full right to 
show themselves cosmopolitan and eclectic in taste, since they partici- 
pate in the art traditions and movements of the world, rather than in 
those of one continent. For this reason, no criticism can be addressed 
to their work in the historic styles, as it can be justly applied to manv 
other American art-craftsmen who exhibit at St. Louis, and who are 
imitators, pure and simple; being wholly outside the traditions and 
inspirations of the things which they have sought to reproduce, and 
reaching for their sole results superficial and spiritless copies. 

On the other hand, the few exquisite objects in the Tiffany collec- 
tion which show historic influences, at the same time, reveal their 
designer as an artist of experience, sentiment and originality: one who 
uses his chosen principles and motifs with full knowledge of their 



meaning, and who further adds to them from the resources of his own 
endowment. They are plainly the work of a worthy successor of 
those excellent artists and expert craftsmen in the precious metals who 
passed enthusiastic, prolific lives in the botteghe of the period of the 
Renascence, or in the booths of the old cities of the Orient. Finally, the 
objects prove that the American can assimilate European traditions, 
as perfectly as if he were foreign born, and reared with their force 
surrounding him ; for no designer of the present time has more vividly 
and delicately apprehended the spirit of historic styles than Mr. 
Paulding Farnham has done in these examples of gold- and silver- 
smithing. It may also be remarked in passing that this artist and Mr. 
Louis Tiffany have collaborated in creating a collection, standing out- 
side of competitive exhibition, and recalling those works of noted 
painters and sculptors which we are accustomed to see in the Paris 
Salons honored with the inscription: Hors Concours. 

From the work of Mr. Farnham, we choose for illustration a few 
of his most representative pieces. Among the most originally treated 
of these is a gold vase of singularly delicate proportions, as is indicated 
by its height of two feet, two and one-half inches, as compared with its 
greatest diameter of five and one-half inches. Its slender, sinuous out- 
line recalls the statues of Praxiteles, and its resemblance to a beautiful 
female figure becomes more pronounced in the mind of the student, 
when he recalls M. Charles Blanc's noted observations upon the re- 
semblances between human and ceramic forms. Judged according 
to the rules of this eminent French authority, Mr. Farnham's vase is a 
model and canon of its kind. Its parts are sharply defined, and yet 
admirably articulated, as are the parts of the human frame: body, 
neck and foot being distinguishable at the first glance. Its curve is 
the refined parabola, always adopted by the Greek ceramists, which, 
as here employed, diminishes at the base to the semblance of a flower- 
stalk, and swells to an ovoid form at the junction of the body and neck, 
which latter rises, with columnar effect, to expand and terminate in 
two ear-like figures suggesting the profiles of lotus buds. By these 
figures the late Greek feeling is happily united with that of another 
period, and this harmonious mingling of styles is further emphasized 
by the Persian designs and coloring used in the enameling. Again, 
this decoration is finely contrasted with the delicate pierced work in 
floral and reticulated patterns, which is introduced at both extremities 
of the vase ; the enameling taking up and developing in color the theme 






' ■-■^fe^ 




1 ▼ V^ '^ * "* 4 

~y ,• 


tr^i •J 

I'vWiiy*^'^ "*-'•' 

■ y » ^^^.^L TtT^tl ^Jw^ 


> •'"'**■ '^'^^1 


h-^[n fr 












ORVAMEXT: SPIREA flowers in white enamel, stamens in cold; designed BV LOUIS C. TIFFANY 

ornament; dracon-fly; silver and gold, filigree wings, set with opals, necklace with 



RIEriVENAMP^f '° ^^"^ ^''^ ''''''^ ^'^^^^'^^^ -^«OLE BEK 

(PAIS STplwt """"' '■''''■'^" f-ARNELIANS AND MEXICAN 





otherwise presented in the minute voids and solids. Upon this exqui- 
site work but one criticism can be made, and that one relates to the title 
of "Genoese," which is attached to it, apparently owing to the fact that 
the surface of the vase resembles the softly blended color- and texture- 
efifects found in the velvets remaining from old Italian palace furnish- 
ings. It would seem, therefore, that the name, as applied to the vase, 
is scarcely justified, since the fabrics themselves were produced in 
certain cities of Italy only as a result of acquaintance and commercial 
relations with the industrial East; the textiles always retaining their 
original characteristics of material, design and coloring. Conse- 
quently it is much to be regretted that a name more suggestive and 
descriptive could not have been devised to mark what, without exag- 
geration, may be called the personality of Mr. Farnham's vase. 

In the table and in the toilet service, executed in the style of the 
High Italian Renascence, we have again to praise the student-like 
qualities of Mr. Farnham as a designer. As to the pieces of the 
former service, he would seem to have thrown his first designs upon 
paper, when fresh from the inspiring reading of Cellini's treatises. 
There is a buoyant strain in the work which passes over to one who 
examines it, and forces from him that untranslatable expression: "Ca 
coule de source." There is a quality in these Renascence examples 
which proves that their designer has not only studied thoroughly in 
the art-school, but that he understands the joyous, exuberant, pagan 
period which he here treats, as only a poet can do. These small pieces 
recall that fragment-like poem of Browning, into thirty lines of which, 
as acknowledged by Ruskin, its author condensed more of the Renas- 
cence spirit than is held in thirty pages of the "Stones of Venice." 

In both services, the human figure, as is inevitable in the style 
chosen, forms the principal decorative motif : the latter becoming, as 
in all good art, a neccessary structural element. Whether it was a 
question of large or of little. Renascence art adopted the point of view 
of the Greeks: summing up the universe in the human figure, and 
regarding Nature as tha mere background for human action. The 
same principles were employed in the frescoes of the Sistine Chapel 
as in the minute sculptures and chiselings of a lady's brooch. 

In the hands of Mr. Farnham these principles, as it may be repeat- 
ed, have been correctly and vitally treated. Compared among them- 
selves, the best pieces of the table service are the tea pot and the cream 
pitcher. The former vessel is adapted from the shapes of those closed 



flagons, which, executed in metal or in glass, have often charmed us 
in the museums of the continent. The human figure here appears 
structurally in the base, the handle and the cover: no choice being made 
— contrary to the custom of many old artists — between the male and 
the female forms; both being used in a singular combination of man, 
bird and fish. The little male figures are treated with great delicacy, 
in what Mr. Symonds was wont to call "the female key," since they 
show the hair drawn into the chignon: a detail which is especially 
noticeable in the figure surmounting the lid. The conventional orna- 
ment, resembling the arabesques of Raphael and quite covering the 
surface of the piece, is beautifully adapted to its place, and accents the 
sections of the vessel which suggest the folds of a fan. 

The pitcher bears a shape equally as charming and as familiar as 
that of the tea pot; reproducing in its accented outline the forms of 
the piece of Italian faience which is said to have excited the admira- 
tion of the French potter, Palissy, and to have led to his long experi- 

Of the pieces composing the table service, the salver would appear 
to be the least successful. At all events, it is the least attractive, for 
while the border and handles perfectly preserve the chosen style, the 
scroll-like ornament filling the enclosed oval space strikes the eye like 
a discord, whether it be considered as a pattern, or yet as to its delicate 
line, which offers too sharp a contrast, with the ornate borders in 

Of the three pieces of the toilet service executed in gold, the mirror 
is by far the most beautiful ; the fine opportunities offered by the sub- 
ject having been used to the utmost by the designer. In this piece are 
to be noted first of all the exquisite relative proportions of the handle 
and of the mirror proper, as well as the graceful swells which prepare 
the articulation of the two parts. Another rare beauty is produced 
by the modulation of the structural outline into surface decoration, 
which occurs just below the arched top, where the heart-shaped curve 
of the metal flows naturally into the Roman acanthus pattern; the 
curve further serving as a support for the reclining female figures 
which form with the torso, crowned with the fleur-de-lis, a spheroid 
body admirably terminating the composition. In this mirror, as in 
the large gold vase, the structural quality is prominent, and the orna- 
ment is never applied; the latter in every instance, being necessary to 



the composition, as may be determined by following the outlines, and 
studying the means employed to join together the separate parts. 

The powder box belonging to the same toilet service, suggests a 
cinerary urn. Although pleasing in effect, it is developed from 
Roman models, which, in their turn were formed from the sphere: a 
much less attractive figure than the egg-shaped vessel of the Greeks. 
But the urn somewhat justifies its shape by the fact that, designed as a 
receptacle of the powder-puff, it indicates in its exterior the form of 
its contents. 

One other piece of Mr. Farnham's work remains to be noted briefly. 
It is his only example shown of a personal ornament, and consists of a 
pendant and chain, designed in strictly historical style, and reproduc- 
ing a parure which might have been worn by the queens of Charles V., 
Francis I., or Henry VIII. The rose-cut diamonds and clustering 
brilliants are correctly used after the manner of the sixteenth century, 
and the work as a whole is intended as a tour de force of craftsman- 
ship; great difficulties having been met in maintaining the delicate 
proportions of the figures of the links throughout the process of 

FROM the short examination of the work of an artist who is a 
deep and intelligent student — one, like Leonardo, enamored of 
subtile lines — we may now turn to observe that of an original 
experimentalist in applied science, an expert in many arts and crafts, 
who is also a sincere lover of Nature, as she reveals herself in plant- 
life. In all these characteristics, Mr. Louis Tiffany resembles M. 
Rene Lalique, but he is much less radical, less original, and far more 
conventional than the distinguished French artist. Still, he is in no 
sense an imitator of any continental craftsman. For many years 
devoted to the composition of glass and smalti, he turned naturally to 
the use of enamels in objects of ornament, and, in this way, found him- 
self upon a path parallel to that which is pursued so successfully by 
M. Lalique. His compounds, especially those capable of giving 
transparency or translucence, lent themselves to the production of 
leaf-and-flower-forms, and here again he invited involuntarily com- 
parison with the Frenchman. Finally, the plants most susceptible to 
treatment in enamels are not those which constitute the floral aris- 
tocracy, and once again, therefore, Mr. Tiffany found himself a com- 
petitor of M. Lalique, who, first of all jewelers, discovered the artistic 



possibilities of field and wayside flowers, and, having discovered them, 
put them to brilliant use. Mr. Tififany has, therefore, followed an 
independent course, using the results of his experiments in several 
different departments of art-industry; being, first of all, an experi- 
mentalist in glass, and a jeweler and goldsmith only upon occasion. 
Consequently, in this latter quality, when judged by the side of M. 
Lalique, he is a brilliant amateur, who brings to his work scientific 
education and experience, hereditary taste and culture, and who has 
enjoyed the most exceptional opportunities for observation and study. 

The flower-pieces contributed by Mr. TifTany to the Exposition 
collection are diversified in material: gold, silver, copper and iri- 
dium being used, together with encrustations of transparent, opaque 
and lustre enamels, in order to attain an almost limitless range of 
natural effects. The flowers selected for treatment are, in all cases, 
such species as are commonly met in the fields or woods, or yet along 
country roads: among them being the clover, the wild carrot, the 
bitter-sweet, the blackberry, the mountain ash, and the spirea. 

To describe the beauty of these pieces is quite impossible. Even 
to picture them in black and white gives but a poor idea of their effect, 
which results in large measure from the color arrangements of natural 
stones and enamels, employed in the most skilful and varied combi- 

In accordance with the new departure in the jeweler's art, Mr. 
Tififany has used in these pieces the more unusual stones and gems; 
choosing them always solely with a view to the desired artistic result, 
and setting aside all question of their market value. 

Among the pieces most worthy of mention, but not here illustrated, 
is a cluster of clover blossoms and leaves, skilfully arranged to form a 
tiara, in which the flowers appear in hammered gold, overlaid with 
yellow enamel, while the leaves and stems, of repousse and filigree 
silver, are enameled in green. The effect of the piece is much in- 
creased by means of a shower of dew-drops simulated in diamonds, 
which, scattered over the leaves and flowers of the cluster, suggest that 
it has been gathered in the morning. 

Another beautiful coiffure ornament, which does not appear 
among our illustrations, is the wild-carrot flower, realistically treated 
and shown at the height of its bloom. In the center of each section 
of the flower, fine opals are massed for the production of color-play, 
and each petal is worked out individually in minute detail; while the 



center of the entire blossom is set with garnets and diamonds, which 
emphasize the sectional divisions, and serve to increase the fire of the 

But the most distinctive and beautiful objects of this collection are 
a necklace, girdle, and coififure ornament, illustrated at the end of 
these comments. The ornament, a cluster of blackberries and leaves, 
recalls, as to the treatment of the fruit in carnelians and garnets, certain 
examples of Russian art occasionally seen in this country; but the 
leaves with their framework outlined in silver, and the intervening 
spaces with translucent enamels, are distinctly of the new art. 

The necklace suggests the metal work of the Etruscans, and is 
beautiful enough to have been exhumed from a tomb of Chiusi or 
Volterra. As will be seen by reference to the plate, the collar is an 
arrangement of minute metal (silver) cups set in rows; the neckband 
suspending a series of parallel bands gradually diminishing in length, 
from the last of which hang pear-shaped sapphires. In this piece, 
the new art has lent a charm unknown to the old work. The translu- 
cence of the green and blue enamel upon silver, the deep color- 
quality of the sapphires, and the green of the garnets, set at the center 
of the flower forms, combine to gratify the eye as the intense unrelieved 
yellow of the Etruscan gold could never do. 

The girdle, using as its motif the bitter-sweet (Solanum Dulca- 
mara), is the design which least of all needs description. Its boldness 
counterfeits the hand of Lalique himself; while its delicacy and avail- 
ability to use places it beyond many of the productions of that master, 
which are museum objects rather than articles fitted for personal 
adornment and use. It is a masterpiece of American craftsmanship 
and, at the same time, an artistic creation of great value. 



iJNE of the most satisfying pleasures of my life, as it will 
be always one of my dearest memories, was the two days' 
intimate association which I recently enjoyed with M. 
Charles Wagner. I met him at the home of Mr. Gustav 
Stickley of The Craftsman, and there came to know this 
great and simple man, as I have known few persons, even 
those for whom my close friendship has extended through a long term 
of years. He brought with him into this home, filled with children, 
a spirit as innocent as that of a child. His presence there was a bene- 
diction, and his words remain as an incentive to the "simple life" and 
the "better way." 

In studying the man, one quickly discovers the source of his power. 
It lies in his faith, his candor; in the honesty, the benevolence, the 
sympathy, with which he thinks, speaks and acts. He recalls con- 
stantly the words of Christ: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God." It is as if he walked constantly with the Divine Vision 
before him. The atmosphere which he spreads about him is the clear 
and cloudless one of confidence, and, as he glances about, interesting 
himself in the details of domestic life, there come into the mind of one 
who watches him, those other words of Scripture: "If thine eye be 
single, thy whole body shall be full of light." His is the clairvoyance 
of the unspoiled soul, which pierces the dark mysteries of existence, 
while the purely intellectual vision remains as lead, dull and opaque, 
before them. 

M. Wagner's personality which, since his arrival in this country, 
has been so much discussed and so variously described, was to me most 
attractive. It grew in charm as time went on, and, at last, had for me 
the force of fascination. At the same time, I can understand that for 
many it may be repellent, by reason of its strength and primitiveness. 
It is liable so to afifect two classes of persons : those who, trained in the 
ways of the world, have no affinity for the things which are represented 
by the words "plain living;" those, also, who are unacquainted, either 
by means of travel, or literature, with the peculiar type of man which 
he personifies: a type impossible to produce in America, and which is 
rapidly disappearing in Europe, never more to reappear, always to be 

M. Wagner's face is now so familiar to the American public that 



it were labor lost to describe it minutely. Yet, as it has come to be 
acknowledged, through the efforts of artists, that a portrait does not 
consist in a mere record of features, I will note several characteristic 
details of that face, hoping in this way to give a truthful impression of 
my subject. The eyes I have already mentioned, although with re- 
gard to their spiritual power, rather than their physical aspect. These 
form the best feature of M. Wagner's countenance, as they also prove 
to be its lasting charm. At first, noticeable for their penetrating 
quality, and apparently rather small — since they are deeply set in the 
orbits and beneath a projecting brow, in effect like a right-angled 
triangle set apex downward — they expand, when fixed ; becoming soft 
and kindly, and turning from black to a deep sapphire tone. When 
the man had passed from my sight, into the next room, or yet, when he 
had departed altogether, I associated his name, his words, and his acts 
with these powerful eyes. For me they summed up his whole exist- 
ence. A second and minor detail of his face impressed me as a very 
characteristic, an almost unique mark. This lay in the furrow, which, 
ordinarily disguised beneath the ruddy tone of the flesh, grew sharply 
defined on brow and cheek, like the cross-hatchings of an engraving, 
when he sank into deep thought, or as he advanced into an earnest 

Another fact of his countenance which I found most interesting, 
was its changefulness — the sudden transformations which it under- 
went: passing instantaneously from a self-reliant or aggressive expres- 
sion to one of great tenderness. The latter overspread his face always 
as he spoke of the son whose loss was the occasion of his writing "The 
Better Way," which has carried consolation into hopeless households 
in all parts of the world. 

It was plain that the memory of the boy recurred to the father, 
whenever he found himself surrounded by youth. It appeared al- 
most to overcome him at the moment of an incident which I witnessed. 
M. Wagner, being about to speak in the First Presbyterian Church, 
at Auburn, N. Y., was waiting to be escorted to the place of 
his lecture, and, in the mean time, was conversing with a company 
gathered in the drawing room of the Pastor of the Church by whom 
he was entertained. There, a deputation of students from the Theo- 
logical Seminary came to greet him, and the young men, filing into 
the room, were met by M. Wagner, as if he had been their instructor 
and friend for years. He gained their attention by a few livelv words 



which revealed the man of French blood. Then, turning to Dr. 
Stewart, President of the Seminary, he said : "Your students show that 
you give them good, paternal care. They appear to enjoy life. They 
have no look of pessimists or skeptics. They surely believe in life and 
the joy of it. Yes, and they are serious, too, for they laugh so heartily." 

Glancing anew at the students, his eyes overflowed with tears, and 
in a broken voice he exclaimed : "Yes, to laugh is the most serious thing 
in life. To laugh properly is a test of manhood. One must not laugh 
at wrong doing, at sorrow, at poverty, at disgrace. One must laugh 
innocently and only at kindness." 

Dr. Stewart replied that the students were prepared to greet their 
distinguished friend so sincerely and heartily, because they were ear- 
nest disciples of the simple life. He added that, during his charge as 
president, he had made many announcements of lectures and dis- 
courses, but never any with the degree of pleasure that he felt in 
making known the coming of the writer of "The Simple Life." 

M. Wagner was evidently touched, and replied: "I am glad that 
your students have come under the teachings of my little book. Into 
that I have condensed the deepest feelings, the most significant experi- 
ences of my life. And I long with my whole heart to be useful to the 
young. To them my fullest sympathy has always reached out. My 
dear son, whom I lost, would now have been of their age. And as I 
look at them, I see him. My feeling is the same, whether I meet young 
workmen, or young students. The state, or condition, is nothing to me. 
I wish to be useful and friendly to those who are passing through the 
most important period of their lives : the period when they make thier 
final decision to take the right, or the wrong way. It is to me a con- 
solation for the loss of my son, that I can give my fatherly love to the 
sons of other men ; that I can be to the inexperienced in life a good 
friend, a real elder brother." 

FROM the lecture that followed, I gained my first impressions of 
M. Wagner as a public speaker, who, in that capacity, has been 
judged in this country from various points of view. And here 
I will say that, in such judgments, allowance should be made, at the be- 
ginning, for the disabilities under which any person, not a professional 
linguist, labors, in speaking a foreign tongue; since in him a large 
share of mental force is deflected from the reasoning faculties, in the 
efifort to clothe the thought with words. This disability being regard- 



Copyrighr i()04. by Gustav Sticklty, 
Syracuse, N. Y. 




Copyright iQOi. by Guslav Sticklcy, 
Syracuse, N. Y. 


ed in its true character — that is, as a superficial, unavoidable defect — 
the listener ceases to stop at the minor considerations of accent and 
grammatical construction, and proceeds to follow the thought of the 
foreigner as he would do that of the native speaker. Regarding these 
principles in the same light as the premises to an argument, I sought to 
judge M.Wagner essentially, and to pass over his racial characteristics, 
as well as his personal mannerisms. I, therefore, without prejudice, 
as, also, without favoring the subject of my study, gained what I be- 
lieve to be an unbiased opinion. To my mind, then, M. Wagner gives, 
as he should do, the impression of a man who has a direct message to 
deliver, and to whom the manner of its delivery is a thing of small 
concern. His gestures are violent, and his voice is not studied. But 
the former, when accompanying his English speech, labor under the 
same disadvantages as his tongue, and bear equally with his language, 
the marks of a foreigner. But his voice has the ring of sincerity, and 
one hears in it the quality belonging to a son of the soil ; of a man whose 
fathers have sung at their labor in the fields, driven their cattle with 
lusty calls, and shouted vehemently in the forests, as they felled the 
trees and chopped the wood. As I listened to the voice of the foreign 
speaker, I was led to think of the great painters of his country who, 
within forty years, have written upon immortal canvases what may be 
called a Hymn in Praise of Labor, chanted in crude, Gregorian tones. 
I remembered Jules Breton, L'Hermitte, and, most of all. Millet, 
whose sole books of instruction were the Bible and Virgil, and whose 
counsellors were his peasant grandmother and his uncle, the village 
cure. The face, the manner, the voice of the speaker, considered to- 
gether with my acquaintance with certain typical individuals of his 
race, convinced me that I had gained a correct idea of M. Wagner, 
toward whom his hearers in America, taking from the duties of their 
busy lives scant time in which to study him, have directed so many 
indiscriminating words, as well of praise as of blame. 

The impression of sincerity and good will made upon my mind by 
M. Wagner, in his discourse to the students, was rapidly deepened by 
my study of him during the short railway journey upon which 
I was his companion. Among other qualities observable in him, I 
noted his kindly manner when he was approached by strangers, his 
willingness to grant small favors and courtesies — in short, his constant 
effort to maintain in his life all that he advocates in his writings. 



IN Syracuse, M. Wagner spoke upon "The Simple Life" in sur- 
roundings which he and his audience as well, felt to be fitting to 
his theme. As was to be expected, he was pleased by the plain, 
solid architecture and fittings of the Craftsman Meeting Room, and 
he expressed himself as gratified at the opportunity to observe the 
trend of the industrial arts in the United States. The frankly empha- 
sized construction of the room and the cabinet-making he commented 
upon as truthfulness translated into material objects. He found, as 
he acknowledged, his own ideas expressed at the opening of "The Sim- 
ple Life," here forestalled and realized. He noted the harmony 
which naturally resulted from the balance of the most easily attainable 
lines, and, as he spoke, drew thence interesting parallels of thought, 
which he used in illustration of his argument. In these instances, I 
was reminded of that constant power of observation, which is so pleas- 
ing a feature of his books, and which seems equally to serve him in all 
surroundings: in his study, in the street, and upon his journeys. 

This power of observation, in his case, is but the prelude to sym- 
pathy. It would seem that he notes but to discover how he can best 
teach, counsel, and comfort. It was thus interesting to listen to his 
responses to persons who came to greet him at the close of his lecture. 
A mother who had lost a son, had but to allude to her grief, when, his 
eyes filled with tears, and extending his hand, he exclaimed: "We are 
brother and sister in such a loss. God has made a bond of sorrow 
between us. Go out and translate your sorrow into sympathy and love 
for those who need it." A second mother remarked to him that her 
child was a moon worshiper, as he himself had been, according to the 
anecdote related in his lecture. "Leave him to himself," he replied. 
"Don't teach him not to ivorship. Bye and bye, you will be the object 
of his adoration ; that too will be right. During the early years of life, 
the father and the mother are to us as God himself. Let your child 
worship you, and soon he will be ready to worship the great God above 
and around him and incarnate within himself." 

A nevv' phase of M. Wagner's character delighted me when I came 
to study him, as he revealed himself as a guest in the home of Mr. 
Stickley. When he entered the house for the first time, he was weary, 
and his childlike gratitude for the hospitality offered, was pathetic to 
witness. It was unlike any manifestation of the same sentiment that 
I have seen shown by an American, and it would not have been under- 
stood by one unaccustomed to observe foreigners. It was a natural 


expression of the simple life led by the peasant-born, which can be met 
with, any day, in the fields of France or Germany, and in the mountain 
hamlets of Switzerland. Enthusiasm, confidence and reliance upon 
the kindness of one's fellow-beings are sentiments peculiar to the man 
who lives near to Nature's heart. 

With entire ingenuousness M. Wagner looked about him in the 
large room which he first entered. He remarked upon the archi- 
tecture and furnishings, similar to those of the Craftsman Meeting 
Room, and then, seeing an inviting, roomy arm chair, he approached 
it, examined its structure and cushions, and, with a gesture of approval, 
seated himself, relaxing his frame and closing his eyes. In this atti- 
tude, he remained for several minutes, and when he again spoke, it was 
to say: "I am quiet and happy. This chair is no temporary resting 
place. I feel as if I had secured a permanent situation." Then, 
glancing at the smooth surface of the arm, upon which the grain 
showed its beautiful markings, he exclaimed : "I love the direct wood. 
Here is something wrought by the hand of Nature herself. The tree 
knows the secret of growing old gracefully. Wood is like a child, 
because its best qualities are apparent. It makes no pretences and 
carries no deceit. It is like a child, too, because it may be spoiled by 
varnish — which is another name for false education. If a surface 
polish be given to either, it will not mature agreeably. In the case of 
the child, the contact of the world will produce defacement and scars; 
in the case of the wood, the hand laid upon it will leave disfiguring 
marks. But this chair is hospitable and humane. It is willing to 
support your weight; your hands might be soiled and perspiring from 
labor, but it would, like a gracious friend, fail to observe them. It 
would receive no impression from them. It is one of those enduring 
things which deserv^e to be heirlooms; to be a center around which 
family memories cluster; to become dear to successive generations, 
like the homestead and the legends of domestic honor." 

This chair so attracting him, he aftervvard received as a gift from 
Mr. Stickley, who also expressed himself ready to direct the appoint- 
ments of the new home which M. Wagner is anxious to possess in the 
suburbs, or rather, the neighborhood of Paris. 

STILL another phase, or — I would rather say — facet of M. Wag- 
ner's character appeared, when on the morning after his arrival, 
he was asked to say grace at breakfast. This he did in a few 
beautiful, poetic words which recalled the pastoral poems of those 



men of simpler lives than our own, the Hebrews and the Greeks. 
Bowing his head, he said, not as if he were repeating a formula grown 
tiresome through use, but with that accent which comes from eagerness 
alone : "We thank thee, O Source of Life, for the lordly gift of bread. 
It comes from Thy sunshine and man's labor. May we eat it in love, 
and thus possess Thy sunshine within our souls ! Amen." 

IN connection with the table, there is one thing which I wish to note 
in passing. That is the freedom from etiquette, the almost pea- 
sant-like simplicity which M. Wagner retains, seemingly as an 
hereditary mark. He uses his bread as we know it to have been used 
in Biblical times as a sponge or sop for liquids, and as we still see the 
European peasants employing it, as they sit at their homely tables, 
gathered about the steaming soup-tureen, after their day of hard toil. 
So, there is nothing that ofifends or repels in M. Wagner's action, 
which perfectly fits the man and adds to him one more touch of the 
son of toil. 

The comments which I have just made, may be naturally followed 
by the quotation of a fragment of conversation which illustrates M. 
Wagner's radical ideas of society. In a discussion of the simple life, 
as the source of democracy, I happened to quote the words of Walt 

"I do not ask who you are. That is not important to me: 
You can do nothing and be nothing but that I will enfold you. 
To cotton-field drudge, or scavenger I lean, 
On his right cheek I put the family kiss, 
And in, my soul I swear, I never will deny him." 
My listener immediately asked the question: "Who is Whitman? 
I have never heard of him until this moment. But I recognize in him 
a brother in spirit. For I must tell you that I never meet the 
scavengers of my quarter, without lifting my hat to them; and once, 
every year, I invite them to my house, that I may pay them special 
honor. One day, as I was walking with my little girls, who were just 
beginning to observe the things about them, one of them said to me 
almost as if in reproach: 'Papa, why do you bow so respectfully to 
those dirty men?' I replied to the child: 'Those men go about the 
streets stained and soiled, in order that we may be clean. Without 
them health and life would be impossible for us.' By this explanation 
the little girl was made to understand that the outside does not neces- 



sarily indicate the value of a person, and I think that she will carry the 
lesson throughout her life." 

FROM the salient characteristics recorded, and the words directly 
quoted, it might be inferred that the spirit of M. Wagner is 
aggressive, seeking to turn those about him to his own opinions 
and ways of thought. But such is not the case. He is personally the 
same gentle spirit whom we have learned through his books to love 
and honor. In definition of his attitude toward evil, he said to me : 

"Does it do you any good for me to point out to you the wrong that 
I see in a man? Does it do me good to tell of it? Does it do him 
good? Ah, no! Let us discover that which is true and noble within 
him, and declare it, so that the higher nature within him may be 
awakened and cry out: 'Do other men think me upright and true? 
Then, in the name of God, let me try more than I have ever tried to be 
what they believe that I am!'" "This," M. Wagner said, "is the 
practical way to help men to be better." 

IN speaking of the typical citizens whom he had met, M. Wagner 
naturally mentioned Theodore Roosevelt. He spoke enthusiasti- 
cally of the President's interest in Luther's definition of faith: "It 
is not knowledge, nor even certitude. It is the complete gift of everyone 
commending himself to the unknown goodness of God. I have noth- 
ing to know. I commend life, death, all to God. I am sure that all 
will be well." But among all his experiences in Washington, M. 
Wagner was most gratified by a conversation which he had had with 
the President, regarding the friendship which should be established 
among the nations as a path to universal peace. He quoted Mr. 
Roosevelt as saying that he trusted the time would come, when Eng- 
land, France, Germany, and the United States would unite in a per- 
manent alliance. For against such a union no nation or race would 
dare rise in opposition. M. Wagner had then set forth the obstacles 
standing in the way of such an alliance. He said : "It took me back to 
the dear home of my childhood, the Reichland, or better, Alsace- 
Lorraine. There, as I indicated to the President, lies the pivot upon 
which rests the perpetual peace of Europe. I have long believed this. 
If Alsace-Lorraine were to become a link of friendship uniting France 
and Germany, instead of the subject of dissension and hate which it is 
now, the course of history might be changed. By this, I do not mean 



that the fact of German annexation should be annulled. That is defi- 
nitely settled. But there are misunderstandings which forbearance — 
which is the highest wisdom — might quickly and easily remove. Ger- 
many is determined to wipe out the French language in Alsace-Lor- 
raine, and her persistency is a constant source of irritation to the 
region. If now, the government would say to the German students 
at Strasbourg : 'You may learn French here,' and equally to the French 
students : 'You may learn German,' the youth of the two nations would 
mingle in friendship at the University; they would come to under- 
stand each other's characteristic excellences ; the spirit of amity would 
spread, and the establishment of good feeling between the two great 
hostile nations would create a new era." .... "My ideas met the 
approval of the President," continued M. Wagner, "and I finished my 
argument by suggesting that when peace and good-will should be 
firmly established in the border-land, there might be founded, at some 
proper point, a University in whose faculty Germany and France 
should receive equal representation." 

YIELDING to his instinctive love for youth, M. Wagner con- 
sented to address certain classes at the Syracuse High School, at 
which Mr. Stickley's daughters are pupils. His discourse at 
this institution was confined to a few reflections upon the relations 
between thought and speech. It recalled those detached paragraphs 
of the Simple Life which have proven to many so serviceable in the 
conduct of daily life. Among the other sentences of this discourse 
the following ones stood out clear and prominent: "To speak is a con- 
sequence, and every consequence follows something else. Before 
speech there should be thought. Speech is loud. Thought is silent. 
Be silent, reflect, look, touch! Then, remember that speech is the art 
of translating the silent thought into the loud word! This process is 
no artificial act. It is natural and spontaneous. The most concise 
words are the best. They are like the elixir of life. A drop of such 
liquid may suf^ce to strengthen the weary; but, if cast into a glass of 
water, its efifect will be lost in the diluting volume. It is the same 
with thought and speech. Therefore, be concise! Do not cover 
paper for the sake of writing! Be as sparing in your use of words as 
clearness will permit! But, above all, be clear! Remember that 
from misunderstandings arise sorrow, misery, war, and, thus, early in 



your lives, lay your foundations for being understood by your fellow- 

RETURNING from the school, M. Wagner paused to examine 
the facade of the Syracuse Carnegie Library, just approaching 
completion. He read the name of the donor inscribed above 
the entrance, and exclaimed with the air of one whose thoughts are 
held to a single, fixed center: "How I wish that he would buy a build- 
ing site for my people in Paris ! I have money for the edifice itself, but 
as for the site, it will be much more costly than the structure. . . . And 
we can not build in the air. . . . But God will send us friends and 
riches, all in His own good time." Then, he added quickly and with 
French spirit : "And you, Mr. Stickley, when the day comes, will teach 
us to build with your simple, direct, honest lines. For it seems to me 
that you have done and are doing for the house and home of man, all 
that I am trying to do for man himself. We both have difficult, some- 
times, even stubborn material with which to deal, but may God bless 
our tasks." 

FROM this subject, he passed to offer some general considera- 
tions upon American home life. "This," said he, "I have found 
characteristic and most active. I have seen examples in sufficient 
number to make me realize that one of your chief dangers as a people is 
that you may lose real things in pursuit of shadows. Home life is 
essentially intimate and secluded. But with you it is in peril of decen- 
tralization. If the fire at the hearthstone be divided into a number 
of sparks, the vitality of these will not continue long. You must, to 
use the old classic words, look to 'your altars and your fires.' If your 
religious faith be lost, apathy will spread over your young nation as it 
has already done over older peoples. If your home life be decentral- 
ized, there is little hope for you ; since the Family is the State in small." 

WITH these words falling from his lips, I shall ever remember 
the author of "The Simple Life." In this expression he 
seemed to reach the climax of his feeling and efifort, and the 
picture which is fixed in my own mind I would gladly transfer to that 
of my readers. 



MONG all art industries, the weavers' craft is the one 
upon which, comparatively speaking, modern influences 
have least exerted themselves. And again, within the 
latter more restricted department, the worst conditions 
observable are those attendant upon the weaving of 
passementerie. A glance at the shop-window of a large, 
active establishment devoted to the production or sale of ornaments 
of this nature, is sufficient to show the miserable state of the craft. 
The color sense is altogether absent. The designs, almost all, have 
been chosen without regard for either material, or technical treatment. 
Modern, in a good sense, there is either nothing at all, or so little that 
it counts for nothing. Such, at least, is the case in Germany. In 
France, where the people are possessed of extraordinarily sensitive 
taste, conditions are, of course, better. But even there, the modern 
Arts and Crafts movement has reached the textile art last of all. In 
this industry, the most noted craftsmen are E. L. J. Tixier, Lucien 
Payen, Paul Malescot, and further Georges Martin, Waree, Lefe- 
bure, Figues, and Guyonnet. The Parisian firm, Supplice and Com- 
pany, have recently produced magnificent decorations for windows, 
some of which were illustrated in the May number of the French 
Review : L'Art et Decoration. Long since, the Compagnie des Indes 
became famous for its exhibits of a similar kind. Beautiful laces 
of exquisitely tasteful designs, which can be favorably compared with 
those of the Austrian Government Lace School, have been executed 
by the previously mentioned artists, Tixier, Lefebure, and Paul Males- 
cot; the finest examples of these being now possessed by the Musee 
Galliera, Paris. 

In illustration we ofTer several specimens of the work of Ernest 
Louis Joseph Tixier, in whose fertility of design and artistic diligence 
we recognize a pupil of Eugene Grasset. From the latter he has 
derived decorative ability and activity of imagination. But the high- 
est quality of his work is his fine sense of the individuality of materials 
and processes. Each one of his designs can be executed only in a 
definite and distinct medium; while, especially among ourselves, art- 













ists, for the most part, make their designs for interchangeable execu- 
tion in metal, porcelain, wood, or silk. 

On the contrary, a good artistic design should be so composed that 
it appears to have condensed and crystallized, as it were, from the 
material and the processes employed; that it seems, not to have been 
created, but rather to have developed itself. Such is the case, in the 
design for a bertha (Illustration VIII.), as also in the designs for gar- 
nitures (passementeries), (Illustration VII). Illustration II. is no- 
ticeable for its fine conventionalization, while another design for 
window decoration (Illustration I.) is extremely delicate, although 
broad in treatment. In the latter, also, the respect paid to the quali- 
ties of the material employed is worthy of remark. The same may be 
said of a second design for a bertha, shown in Illustration III. The 
artist rarely uses definite figure- or plant-forms, and further these must 
be introduced with great care into textile designs. It is necessary, 
therefore, to select such plant-forms as show certain structural fea- 
tures which offer resemblances with textiles. Again, these forms 
must be so apprehended that they easily and without opposition allow 
themselves to be adapted to treatment, as in the example by Tixier, in 
the upper design of Illustration VII. But the plant-forms constitute 
special cases; while geometrical patterns are now the favorite means 
of decoration used in textiles. It might be believed that the linear 
system of Van de Velde might have provided us with very interesting 
scroll-ornamentation. However, nothing of this is observable. "The 
cult of the wavy line" has set up its pretences, for the most part, where 
it has no reason for existence; bookmaking, perhaps, apart. But 
England has afforded us excellent work in linear ornament for textile 
designs. I should not here omit to remind my readers that, in his time, 
the great Leonardo summoned artists to study the cracks of crumbling, 
ruined walls, just as the Norwegian women must have studied the 
lines of weakened ice. Furthermore, the Japanese master Hokusai 
took the traces of birds' claws in the sand, as the model for his textile 

Even purely realistic motifs have been employed by the modern 
French textile designers with much effect. The familiar peacock 
design is shown in an original drawing, excellently adapted to textiles, 
by the well-known Parisian architect, Theodore Lambert (cf. Illustra- 
tion VI.). A pattern of exceptional grace is seen in the design for a 
woman's collar by Jacques Bille of Paris (Illustration IX.). 



As is well known, Vienna, in recent years, has shown excellent 
artistic craft-work, particularly in lace industries. To the Aulic 
Councillor von Skala belongs the honor of having formed the Lace 
School into a corporate body, the work of which has quickly attained 
an international reputation. Frau M. Hrdlicka is the author of the 
excellent designs here chosen for illustration from the productions of 
this school. 

Darmstadt, the modern art Mecca of Germany, has most credit- 
able examples to show in the department of industry with which we 
are now concerned. From the fertile productiveness of Leipheimer 
we select a most successful design for a point lace centerpiece. 

Finally, I present a few examples of Danish art-activity. A year 
since, a Kunstflidsforening (Arts and Crafts Union) was founded in 
Copenhagen, with the worthy purpose of fostering the art of tapestry- 
weaving. The directress of the Union, which has opened a school in 
connection with the club, is Frau Emma Gad, the well-known writer. 
But it does not seem to me that this Union has, as yet, entered upon the 
right way. I visited the school, examined the looms, and all the 
hitherto accomplished, as well as the projected work. Certain of the 
pieces shown me were finely executed, and the greater number of the 
designs of the directress of the school were creditable. But in my 
judgment, the organization is not pursuing the right aim, and, al- 
though the same kind of establishments present an urgent problem for 
Germany, I cannot let pass this opportunity to express my opinion. 
These schools, as modern institutions, must, before all else, consider 
individuality. Furthermore, the pupils must not be taught to work 
mechanically, according to models, but rather to create for them- 
selves. The modern, highly developed loom with shuttle-devices, 
which the Danish organization has imported is, therefore, a hindrance. 
The Scherrebeker Art-Weaving Association has very accurately per- 
ceived this, and reverted to the primitive loom, which makes possible 
the development of the individual. The same thing has been done in 
Austria. Yet these are only isolated cases. In Copenhagen, I re- 
ceived the impression that it was desired to form weavers of the great- 
est possible mechanical skill, but not self-reliant artists. To be an 
artist is to display individuality. In accordance with this principle, 
the Kunstflidsforening must reform its school, provided that it wish 
to preserve Danish art. 

In spite of my strictures, I grant that the productions of the Copen- 



gen Union, up to the present time, have been creditable, especially in 
the hedebosyning, old Danish peasant, and modern Danish work. 
From the latter I have chosen for illustration two vigorous designs for 
women's collars executed by Frederika Hegel, a handkerchief 
adapted from an old model, and a decorative frieze by Urban Gad, 
who furnishes the greater number of designs used in the new art 

THE LINDEN TREE «< From the German 


I know a sturdy linden, 
With branches wide outspread. 
Whose thick, green foliage whispers 
Of fair days that have fled. 


And near by flows a streamlet. 
Whose silvery waters shed 
A murmur passed down ages 
Of fair days that have fled. 


By hope's own lovely visions 
Forever am I led. 
So there I sit and ponder 
On fair days that have fled. 

I. s. 



ESIGNED to meet the requirements of a home for a 
family of average size, at a cost not excessive when we 
note the area in square feet of the first floor, and consider 
the materials employed. Craftsman House Number XI. 
presents a plan which has much to commend it, and 
an exterior as unusual as it is pleasing. In a setting of 
greens and browns, marshaled by the trees, shrubs, lawns, and the 
gravel of the paths, the greens and browns of the house itself cannot 
fail to be effective. 

Perhaps the first detail to hold the eye, as one contemplates the 
fagade as a whole, is the porch or terrace which leads to the main 
entrance of the house. The middle third of the facade is recessed so 
as to give a pleasing shadow, as well as additional area to the floor 
space of the terrace, which springs in the form of a semi-circle from 
either side of the recess. 

The terrace is composed entirely of stone and cement: the item of 
stone being supplied by boulders and cobbles of suitable size, built into 
the wall in their natural shapes, or with such slight hammer-dressing 
as may be necessary for structural stability and for alignment. The 
broad and low steps leading to the terrace level are of roughly shaped 
stones, laid end to end; the intervening spaces, often of considerable 
size, being filled in and brought to a surface by the cement. From 
the extremities of the steps, and following the curve of the semi-circle, 
is a low wall, which forms the boundary of the terrace at the sides. 
This wall is about eighteen inches wide across the top; a unique fea- 
ture of its construction being the gutter, or trough, following its 
length, shaped of the cement, and arranged to hold earth into which 
are transplanted the favorite flowers in season. A number of ducts are 
left within the wall when it is constructed, and these provide proper 
drainage from the trough to the ground below. 

Two boulders of large size are selected to terminate the walls at 
the steps, and these having roughly shaped faces, afiford admirable 
locations for potted shrubs or plants. 

Cypress shingles form the covering for the entire expanse of side 
walls and roofs : those for the walls being of extra length, laid wide to 
the weather, and treated with a green stain of Cabot's No. 303 ; the roof 
shingles are laid in the usual manner and receive a brown stain 
(Cabot's No. 141). The same brown is applied to the window cas- 
ings and to other parts of the exterior woodwork, which is also of 



cypress. The windows are arranged to produce a well-lighted inte- 
rior, and are quite effective, with their upper sashes glazed in small 
lights; while the lower sashes, with their large single glasses, give an 
unobstructed view from within. The house-wall and the chimneys 
bring again into use a construction similar to that of the terrace, and 
the latter terminate in tapering pots of a deep red color. 





HE plans show a series of well-arranged rooms of good size. 
The main hall, which has a width of twelve feet, is entered 
through a roomy vestibule from the front, and leads, under the 
stairs, to a study at the rear of the house. On one side, the vesti- 
has a seat; on the other, a space for a hat rack and an umbrella 












From the hall, stairs lead to the second floor; while convenient 
doors give access to a coat closet, to the cellar stairs, and to the 
kitchen; while wider openings, one at either side, open to the living 
room and the dining room. 

The living room is large, having dimensions of eighteen by twenty- 
six feet, with an added space, at either end, which is occupied by low 
and comfortably cushioned seats. The fireplace opposite the entrance 
from the hall, is of hard burned brick, selected for their grays, dark 
browns, and blacks, and laid up in full struck joints of dark-colored 
mortar. A red sandstone lintel spans the fire opening, and another 



lintel of the same material, cut to show a shallow pointed arch, is placed 
across the recessed shelf above. The hearth is of the same brick, and 
the andirons are of hand wrought iron; the finish harmonizing with 
the blacks of the brick. The study is situated behind the living room, 
and both these rooms have doors opening upon a broad veranda, pro- 
tected by a continuation of the main roof. The veranda being at the 
rear of the house, is, for this reason, secluded, and so forms a pleasant 
sitting-porch for the family. 

THE study, easily accessible from the hall, or the living room, has 
a fireplace constructed of brick, similar to those used for the 
fireplace in the living room, and having a copper hood of grace- 
ful lines, ornamented with a rose-motif in hammered pattern. Flank- 
ing the fireplace are convenient book cases with glazed doors; while, 
under the stairs, space is found for a closet, an arrangement which is 
always useful in a room of this kind. 

IN the dining room, the principal feature is the fireplace; the entire 
chimney breast being treated in glass-mosaic showing a tree-motif. 
In this picture the background consists of flat tones of gray; the 
foliage of the larger trees introducing tones of green, with the hanging 
fruit in bright orange ; the border in yellows, tans and varying greens, 
and the small trees in tones of violet. 

THE dining room, eighteen by twenty feet in size, has a wide win- 
dow seat, similar to one in the living room; while in common 
with the latter, the living room and the hall, it has a beamed 
ceiling, as may be learned from the plans. 

Access is had to the kitchen from the dining room through the 
butler's pantry, which has well arranged cupboards and the necessary 
sink ; or, from the hall, the kitchen may be reached through the passage 
under the main stairs. From this passage stairs lead to the cellar, 
where the heating apparatus is located, together with the laundry, the 
vegetable, and the preserve closet, etc. The kitchen is thirteen by sev- 
enteen feet six inches in dimensions, and affords ample room for the 
range, table, sink, etc. At the rear, there is a cold room of good size, 
arranged to allow the icing of the refrigerator from the adjoining rear 


From the kitchen, service stairs lead to the second floor, and reach 
the second story hall directly opposite the head of the main staircase. 

ON the second floor, we find two bed rooms of somewhat more 
than average size, and two smaller ones; also, an alcove from 
the hall, which, fitted with a low couch and dresser, can be made 
into a very comfortable sleeping room. The two larger rooms, in 
addition to being irregular in plan, and having their side walls and 
ceilings somewhat broken by reason of the low roof, possess an added 
attraction in their fireplaces, which are faced with tile; the one in the 
room treated in green showing a deeper shade than is found on the side 



walls. In the other room, which is in light Delft blue, the tile are 
dark blue in tone, with an occasional one showing an old Dutch motif. 

All the bed rooms have large closets connected with them, and 
there is also a convenient linen closet opening from the hall. The 
bath, at the rear of the hall, is of ample size to afiford space for all 
necessary fixtures. 

The attic is reached by stairs from the hall over the main staircase, 
and ofYers considerable storage room. A broom closet is a conven- 
ience found on this floor, and another exists in the placing of the 
kitchen at the foot of the service stairs. 


CYPRESS is used for the "trim" in the hall, vestibule, the living 
and dining rooms. This wood is treated with a distemper, 
greenish-brown in color, and made by dissolving gum traga- 
canth in a small quantity of glycerine. This preparation is applied, 
when mixed to the consistency of boiled linseed oil. When dry, the 
surface is sandpapered, then a coat of shellac is applied, and the wood 
is again sanded, this time with No. oo sandpaper, after which it is 
wiped with a cloth dampened in "clean up" — consisting of linseed 
oil one-third, and turpentine, or benzine, two-thirds. 

THE study is finished in hazel ; the wood receiving the same treat- 
ment as that which has been just described. The kitchen and 
other rooms of the service department are finished in Carolina 
pine, treated with a first coat of varnish reduced, to which a little moss 
green pigment has been added. This coat is not heavy enough to 
conceal in the least the grain of the wood. A second coat of the var- 
nish alone is then applied, and sanded to a flat finish. 

The entire second story is finished in white wood, treated in the 
same manner as the cypress of the first floor. The floors throughout 
are of comb grained pine, stained to match the other woodwork, and 


Entering from the terrace, we at once come into the vestibule: a 
small enclosure, serving as a convenient waiting room for callers 
whose errands of more or less business character do not warrant their 
admission into the broader hall beyond. This vestibule shows little 
attempt at decoration, or furnishing. Its walls are of plaster, tinted 
like those of the hall and living room to a warm cream color: a tone 
not yellow, but rather suggested by the blendings found in old ivory, or 
parchment. The floor is stained a darker tone than is seen in the 
remainder of the woodwork, and a wooden settle, at the left, is of the 
same shade. 

The open space on the right of the vestibule may be prettily fur- 
nished by some palms, or flowering plants. The appointments of the 
vestibule are completed by a coat rack and an umbrella stand. 

This ample room, or space, is separated from the vestibule by 
portieres of canvas or similar material, heavy enough to shut out all 


















draught. The ceiling is beamed ; the walls are tinted the tone already 
described in the treatment of the vestibule; and the floor stained like 
the floors of the living room, the dining room and "den," to a greenish 
■ ■ 


brown. A small table and one or two chairs constitute the furniture 
required; but a settle, fitted in leather, with a number of soft 
leather cushions (brown tone), may be added with good efifect. The 
rug should be simple in design, but rich and warm in coloring, in order 



to give proper accent to the room. The artificial lighting comes from 
copper lanterns hung from the beams of the ceiling, and having opal- 
escent glass shades of soft opaque yellow. 

The curtains separating the adjacent rooms should be uniform in 
material, and of a pinkish brown, suggested by the frieze of the living 


In this room two requirements are sought: namely, that the furni- 
ture be comfortable, and the decoration harmonious, offering a color- 
scheme in which the elements are not easily definable. 

Here, the walls have the same soft ivory tint, and are paneled with 
wood like that of the beams. The molding extends around the room 
to a height corresponding with the door tops, and above this, runs the 
frieze — the principal decorative feature of the room. Here, be- 
tween the narrow wood panelings which rise from the floor, there are 
bits of landscapes done in embroidery, which are simple suggestions, 
instead of pictures which would end by becoming tiresome in their 
definiteness. The living room is rich in low, broad window seats, 
which maybe upholstered in leather, or in canvas, such as is used in the 
portieres, and of uniform color. There should be many pillows, and 
in these a number of delightful colorings might be introduced: soft 
gray greens, a shadowy old blue, brown in lighter tones than the cur- 
tains, and even a note of copper coloring or pumpkin; the latter, per- 
haps, only in an applique, but something which sympathizes with the 
touch of brightness in the sky line of the frieze. One wall space in the 
living room is reserved for the piano, and there should be one or two 
reading tables, and on each of these a good copper lamp, enameled in 
gray-green, and having a touch of brightness in the shade. The rug in 
this room should be durable and simple : for instance, a woven rag rug, 
with colorings carefully chosen to include the creams and browns of 
the general color scheme. 

To accentuate the beams as a feature of this room, the artificial 
lighting proceeds from hanging lanterns in copper. By day, a soft 
effect of natural light is obtained through the use of curtains in an 
ivorv tone of Shanghai silk. 

Again to this room much careful thought has been given in all that 
concerns the decoration. We find here the beamed ceiling and a 



pleasing variety introduced into the wall finish. As in all the other 
rooms, the plaster between the ceiling beams has been left untouched; 
care having been taken at first to avoid a cold, bluish cast, by adding to 
the mixture, when ready to be applied, a small quantity of yellow pig- 

■3c<a.i r 


ment. The walls of this room are tinted a warm ivory tone down to 
the line of the molding, and below this, from the molding to the four- 
inch baseboard, they are covered with gray-green burlap, which may 
be of plain color, or else show an unobtrusive design. Care must be 
taken to insure a perfect harmony, which may be based upon the tone 



of the wall canvas, and the color of the glass mosaic, which shows rich 
old gold, copper, and bronze greens on a background of cool, flat color. 
The window curtains in this room are of homespun linen, with a little 
golden brown introduced into the hem. The artificial lighting should 
be made from side brackets only, and from candlesticks on the table: 
a system which is much more effective than the glaring light of a sus- 
pended chandelier. The china used should be Canton, in old blue, or 


In the den, another variation from the general scheme is intro- 
dued by the hazel woodwork, and the fireplace is made the 
principal feature. Here, the walls should be tinted a soft brown, 
rather deep in tone, and tending toward green rather than red, with 
the space above the molding, corresponding to the frieze, treated in a 
cream color, more gold than red. The window seat is upholstered in 
in a golden brown leather, and has cushions in browns and greens; the 
rug should be inconspicuous in design and color, showing tones of 
olives and browns, and bits of decoration may be added by copper 
pieces, old terra cotta, and tobacco jars in harmonious color. 


On this floor, the alcove bedroom offers the chief point of interest. 
Here again, the walls, like those of the upper hall, should be of ivory 
tone. This room, having a couch bed, can be used in the day time for 
a sitting room; the portieres (golden-brown) between this room and 
the hall being drawn at night and pulled back in the daytime, so as to 
throw the alcove room and the hall into one large space. On one side 
of the room, the couch stands covered in day time with a linen slip, 
embroidered in a pattern repeating the color scheme of the walls, 
which is again shown in the pillow coverings. The couch is balanced 
on the opposite side of the room by a chest of drawers. This room 
should contain a serving table, two or three simple rocking chairs with 
rush seats, a writing desk, and a copper reading lamp. The curtains 
are of china silk in pale ecru color. 

The bedroom at the left — probably the guest room — has its walls 
tinted in pale and very soft green. The furniture is light in frame, of 
green wood, and provided with rush seats. The window curtains are 
of muslin and very simple, offering hints of old blue and rose. The 


same colors are repeated in the linen bed spread. All the china in this 
room should show the gray green, blues, and rose tints of hydrangea 
blossoms. The rag rugs are in soft tints of green and blue. The bed- 
room opposite forms a pleasing contrast; its walls being tinted a soft 
and very light Canton blue. The furniture has a gray, silvery finish 
most agreeable to the eye. The bedspread is done in old-fashioned 
cross stitch, worked in darker Canton blue; while the curtains carry 
out the same idea; being linen of a simple basket weave, embroidered 
in cross stitch. 

The lighting in both these rooms is from sconces, one at each side 
of the mirror, and the scheme is completed by old Canton china ware 
and a quaint brass candlestick. A further addition is suggested in the 
use of window boxes filled with Chinese asters in soft blue and violet 
tones, and the floor is covered with a matting in a Japanese design 
introducing blues and greens. 

The largest bedroom at the rear could be furnished as a child's 
room. It might be papered in rose felt paper with a paper frieze 
above the molding displaying some simple, agreeable decoration. 
The furniture of the room should be light in build, and have rush 
bottoms. The window seat should be piled with pillows covered with 
linens, and the curtains and bed covers made from some soft white 
material that is easily laundered. 

The servant's room on the other side of the bath room, should have 
the walls left plain, as the yellow tint used in the plaster will make the 
room bright and cheerful. The bed should be iron, painted in white 
enamel, and the floor simply stained, and laid with several bright 
colored rag rugs. This room should contain a sewing table, some 
comfortable chairs, and, perhaps, a low seat built in alcove below 
the windows. The seat may be upholstered in cretonne or denim, in 
plain colors, with pillows of the same, and the windows should be hung 
with muslin. 

The cost of the Craftsman House Number XI. is estimated 
approximately at $6,300. 



HE bellows is a good servant in picturesque attire. At 
one time, to handle it delicately was regarded as a sign 
of good breeding ; whether it was used to keep the hearth 
clear of ashes and cinders, or to trim the fire. This ad- 
junct of old-time country fireplaces and wide hearths, 
has an important function, wherever heavy, damp air 
makes difficult the keeping of a small, permanent fire. Bellows should 

<( ^.^ »> 

be worked gently and rhythmically to insure a continuous, steady 
breath, strong and far reaching. Sometimes, however, a sturdy blunt- 
ness is needed: a brisk succession of short, vigorous pufTs, producing 
a shower of sparks. This skill of handling can hardly be transferred 
to the ignorant and the careless. Fires are strange elf-like creatures; 
at times resenting trimming or blowing, often sulking, and becoming 


inert; often tyrannical and capricious. It is said that one must first 
make friends with the bellows, before one can drive the fire, which, too 
vigorously excited, fills the room with smoke, or, perhaps, goes out 
altogether. It must not be scolded. It must be coaxed. 

To assure good service, bellows must be carefully built: great 
attention being given to the proportions of parts, the shape of the air 

chamber, the length of the arms, the construction and details of the 
hinges, and the length of the nozzle, which latter is usually of cast 
metal. A nozzle which is slender and graceful, requires to be secure- 
ly blocked into the end of the back section of the body, and so adjusted 
as to feed well. The supply of air proceeds from holes bored in the 
back section of the bellows, which, in turn, are protected from down 
draft by a tongue, or flapper, of leather, hinged upon the inside. 



Design A: — The shape of the body, the shortness of the handle, 
and the length of the nozzle, unite in creating a good blowing capacity, 
adapted to provide a steady current of air. The leather gussets allow 
the bellows to open wide — some eight or ten inches — and thus give 
both lifting and driving power. The oak body is partly covered by a 
tracery of iron, made interesting by the ingenious use of the hammer, 
so directed that its blows produce simple decoration; the hammer 
marks varying in shape and size. The front arm is a skilful interlace 
of wrought iron, and the rear arm is of oak. 

Designs B and D: These are intended for small bodied bellows, 
covered with leather. As a measure of precaution to protect the 
leather from the fire, a long nozzle is recommended, supported by 
short metal stays. A certain freedom is given by the use of copper 
nails, following somewhat the outline suggested by the body. 

Design C has a great working capacity. As in the three former 
examples, its hinge is of copper. A suggestion of smoke is roughly 
cut on the front arm, while the rear arm provides a good grip for the 

Design E: This drawing shows a long-armed bellows, of 
medium capacity, and easily inflated. 

It is hoped that these notes and designs may be valuable to our 
subscribers. They are intended as a practical reply to a recent letter 
requesting information and ideas upon the subject; while for crafts- 
men in general they should offer interest, since they treat of a union of 
cabinet-making and carving with the craft of metal- and leather- 



THE Craftsman has latterly heard 
much discussion regarding degen- 
eracy — physical, mental and moral 
— since his workshop is a meeting place 
much frequented by the students of the 
medical school hard b)'. As he works, he 
listens and meditates, adapting to his 
humble personal views and use the ideas 
which he hears explained from the point of 
view of knowledge and science. 

One day, when the conversation turned 
upon hereditary influences, he heard it re- 
marked that the Puritan principle had dis- 
appeared from our country; that its old 
stronghold, Massachusetts, was rapidly 
becoming an alien State, considered as to 
its population ; that the industrial activity 
of this section was declining, never again 
to revive ; that new elements were rising to 
replace that expended force which once 
had been regarded as the leaven of the 

The Craftsman, in his simple way, re- 
volved these utterances in his mind. He 
associated them with other statements con- 
cerning the decadence of the Latin races 
which he had not altogether accepted, since 
he had found them unsustained by facts : 
the theory in the latter instance having 
been based upon the case of Spain, whose 
great temporary power and activity were 
never vital, but, instead, might be com- 
pared with a factitious display of life pro- 
duced by galvanic action. 

This discrepancy between theory and 
fact — as the humble, practical worker has 
a number of times proven through his own 
experiences — is only too liable to occur in 
the views expressed by students, whose 
lives, spent largely among books, and in 
comparative solitude, are not sufficiently 
modified by the influences of other men; 

whose opinions show that uncompromising 
self-centered quality, which, translated 
into conduct, would become selfishness. 

Therefore, in view of his own convic- 
tions, the Craftsman resolved to study the 
present social conditions of Massachusetts, 
as best he could, from a disadvantageous 
point of view, and with untrained powers; 
his interest arising partially from his 
eagerness to investigate the social questions 
of the day, but, to a greater degree still, 
because of the strain of Puritan blood 
coursing through his own veins. 

His opportunity was not slow in pre- 
senting itself. A Boston newspaper fell 
into his hands containing an eloquent edit- 
orial upon what it fittingly named "the 
prelude to the Peace Congress." This, in 
other words, was the first meeting of those 
idealists representing many nations, who 
recently convened in the Puritan City, to 
discuss means for substituting arbitration 
for war, for suppressing tyranny, and 
bringing on the bloodless triumph of 

The Craftsman at first read almost 
breathlessly, anxious to possess himself of 
facts. Then, he weighed evidence, and 
made comparisons. Finally, he could not 
but acknowledge that he found the Puri- 
tan principle as active, as characteristic, in 
modern Boston, as in the Colonial times; 
the intensity being now exerted in more 
complex and far wider surroundings, and, 
therefore, rendered less noticeable. 

But in what other community of the 
country, reasoned the Craftsman, could 
this opening programme of the Peace Con- 
gress have been so perfectly arranged? 
Where else could ideality have been kept 
pure from commercialism? Where else 
could have been effected a similar union of 



classic literature with new art, which tells 
of continuous tradition and uninterrupted 
culture? Where else could have been 
found that grim humor, whose function it 
is to relieve the tension of prolonged emo- 
tion ? The descendants of the Puritans 
alone could have devised and carried into 
effect so enthusiastic a scheme as the plan 
involved in the Peace Congress: a plan as 
problematical as the foundation of a State 
in the wilderness, yet which, perhaps, will 
be realized as fully as the Commonwealth 
now nearing the completion of the third 
century of its existence. 

The "prelude" or programme of the 
first assembly of the Congress was so ex- 
quisitely fitting that the Craftsman for 
some days could not dismiss it from his 
mind. He enjoyed it number by number, 
as if he had listened to the actual musical 
notes, and experienced the force and 
pathos of every word uttered. He felt 
that he must share his emotions, and there- 
fore confided to certain appreciative 
friends the thoughts awakened in his mind 
by the memories of the masterpieces of 
music and literature there rendered. 

He recalled the great "Gallia" of Gou- 
nod, the wail of the stricken French after 
the Franco-Prussian War, which was 
chosen to open the assembly, in order that 
it might fit the auditors to its own mood of 
prophetic exaltation. The Craftsman lis- 
tened to its minor harmonies and under- 
stood the grief and despair attendant upon 
war, as he had never before done. 

Then, in contrast, he heard the clear 
notes of hope struck in the Mendelssohn 
chorale and chorus from "St. Paul": 

"How lovely are the messengers that 
preach us the gospel of peace," which pre- 
pared the entrance of the venerable Ed- 

ward Everett Hale, whose voice, when the 
music ceased, freed itself from the weak- 
ness of old age, to ring out, organ-like, in 
that Hebrew idyl, whose beauties have re- 
appeared, although dimmed, throughout 
the long course of literature down to our 
own day: Greek, Roman, mediaeval and 

"And God shall judge between the na- 
And arbitrate for many peoples. 
And they shall beat their swords into 

And their spears into pruning-hooks. 
Nation shall not lift up sword against na- 
Neither shall they learn war any more." 

Then, following, the Craftsman actually 
heard a chorus from the "Messiah" : that 
structural music which always recalls to 
him the buttresses, the architectural bal- 
ance of Canterbury cathedral; and, like a 
burst of light through the jeweled glass of 
the flame-shaped windows of the transept, 
the waves of sound came to him bearing 
the words : 

"And the glory of the Lord shall be re- 
vealed, and all flesh shall see it together, 
for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." 
In all these adequate renderings of the 
work of human genius our humble worker 
recognized the ideality of the Puritans 
which, in Colonial days, carried them, 
with unshaken faith, through the most bit- 
ter trials. At the end, he observed the 
entrance of that quiet humor which we 
find often mingled with doctrine and 
dogma, in the austere writings of the old 
divines and worthies. The Craftsman felt 
the modern Puritan to be complete, when 
Dr. Hale reminded his audience that the 
greatest peace society of the world was 



organized one hundred sixty years ago, 
under the name of the United States; end- 
ing his discourse by the quotation : 

"Convention did in State House meet, 
And when it wouldn't hold 'em, 
They all went down to Federal street. 
And there the truth was told 'em." 
And truly these are rhymes which offer 
the portrait of the Puritan, more truth- 
fully than could be done by the most skil- 
ful brush: for here the yeoman-like man- 
ner of speech is preserved, and the charac- 
teristic, high-pitched voice seems really to 
utter the words. 

At the close of his investigations, the 
Craftsman was convinced that the degen- 
eracy of New England is a subject as- 
signed by professors to students, in order 
that the latter may learn without danger 
to maintain their own points and parry the 
thrusts of their opponents, just as children 
are taught to ride upon wooden horses be- 
fore they are trusted with a live animal. 
He was convinced that the modern repre- 
sentative citizen of the Puritan capital is 
as faithful as the original colonist of Cape 
Cod to the spirit of the Latin legend ap- 
pearing on the seal of Boston, which a 
student-friend of the Craftsman trans- 
lated for him : 

"As God was to our fathers. 
So mav He be to us." 

and embroidered textiles wrought in the 
Craftsman workshops: these articles to be 
sent under certain conditions, which will 
be made known to applicants. One of 
these conditions is that, during the pro- 
gress of the Exhibition requesting the co- 
operation of The Craftsman, an illus- 
trated lecture upon "The Founding and 
Adornment of an Ideal Home" be given 
by George Wharton James, now upon the 
editorial staff of this Magazine. Mr. 
James is widely known in the United 
States as a lecturer and writer upon 
"Americana." He is the author of the 
standard book upon "Basketry and other 
Indian Industries," and of deservedly pop- 
ular works treating the "Grand Canyon," 
the scenery and architecture of the South- 
west and California, and the "Indians of 
the Painted Desert." Into his new de- 
parture, Mr. James will carry his charac- 
teristic enthusiasm and sympathy, which 
never fail to convince his audiences of the 
truth and importance of his utterances 
upon any subject chosen by him for presen- 

In the October number of The 
Craftsman the copyright notice was 
omitted, through oversight, from the 
"Corn-Grinding Songs," by Miss Natalie 
Curtis, printed on pages 38-40, both the 
music and words of which are reserved by 
the author. 


THE Craftsman announces to so- 
cieties intending to hold Arts and 
Crafts Exhibitions during the 
present season, that it will participate in 
such by sending examples of metal work 

Mr. Henry J. Baker, President of the 
Buffalo (New York) Guild of Applied 
Arts, is now directing classes in handicraft, 
at the Albright Art Gallery, in that city. 
Mr. Baker, for years, has made the most 
generous efforts to further the Arts and 
Crafts movement in his community, and 



his cherished hopes would now appear to 
be approaching realization, since the 
Guild in which he is interested constantly 
increases its membership and its enthu- 
siasm for concerted action and work. 

An Arts and Crafts exhibition of an un- 
usually interesting character is now being 
held in Buffalo, in the art shop of George 
W. Benson. Mr. Benson has collected 
examples of the work of many of the best 
craftsmen in the country ; thus assuring the 
artistic value of the enterprise, and remov- 
ing it from commercialism. The exhibi- 
tion is particularly rich in ceramics, show- 
ing no less than thirteen kinds of Amer- 
ican art pottery : the Grueby, Newcomb, 
Rookwood, Dedham, Volkmar, Merri- 
mac, Moravian, Bronner, Ohr, Barman, 
Frackleton, Warrick and the McLaughlin 
porcelain. There are many beautiful 
examples of hand-wrought jewelry; Mr. 
Thresher of Dayton, Mrs. Wynne and 
Mr. Bennett of Chicago, Miss Carson of 
Cleveland, Miss Winlock of Cambridge, 
Miss Luther of Providence, and Miss 
Folsom of Winchester, being among the 
craftsmen represented in this department. 
Among those who have contributed handi- 
work in bronze, copper, and brass are Mr. 
Saint-Gaudens, Miss Hyatt of New York, 
Mr. Stickley of Syracuse, Miss Holden of 
New York, Miss Ogden of Milwaukee, 
Mr. Jarvie of Chicago, and the Art Crafts 
Shop of Buffalo. The workers in leather 
who exhibit are Mrs. Burton of Santa 
Barbara, the Misses Ripley of New York, 
the Arts and Crafts Society of Baltimore, 
the Wilro and Kalo shops of Chicago, 
Miss Smith of Philadelphia, Mr. Grinnell 
of New Bedford, and a number of other 
men and women. 



^HE Friendship of Art," by 
Bliss Carman, is a collection of 
independent essays of unequal 
merit; some of them showing a sponta- 
neous expression of thought, and others 
being simply skilful combinations of 
words, arranged for the sake of writing. 
Of the latter division it is not necessary to 
speak further, except to say that these writ- 
ings belong to an immeasurable yield of 
literary products possessed of scant vital- 
ity, which are brought into existence in an 
age of wide-spread culture and of inexpen- 
sive bookmaking. Included in the first 
division, on the contrary, there are both 
wit and wisdom, expressed tersely with 
specific words, such as fix themselves easily 
in the memor>'. The climax occurs in the 
essay "On being ineffectual," which is 
really a masterpiece of observation, and at 
the same time, a lesson which it would be 
well to take to heart. The fragment here 
quoted from the essay deserves to be stud- 
ied paragraph by paragraph, for it is filled 
with the honey of a homely philosophy: 
"I have an idea that evil came on earth 
when the first man or woman said : 'That 
isn't the best I can do, but it is well 
enough.' In that sentence the primitive 
curse was pronounced, and until we ban- 
ish it from the world again we shall be 
doomed to inefficiency, sickness and un- 
happiness. Thoroughness is an elemental 
virtue. In nature nothing is slighted, but 
the least and the greatest of tasks are per- 
formed with equal care, and diligence, 
and patience, and love, and intelligence. 
We are ineffectual because we are slov- 
enly and lazy and content to have things 
half done. We are willing to sit down 



and give up before the thing is finished. 
Whereas we should never stop short of an 
utmost effort toward perfection, so long 
as there is a breath in our body. Women, 
of course, are worse in this respect than 
men. Their existence does not depend on 
their efficiency, and therefore they can be 
almost as useless and inefficient as they 
please, whereas, men have behind them a 
very practical incentive to efficiency, 
which goes by the name of starvation. 
And there are ineffectual men, certainly. 
It is not a matter of large attempts, but of 
trifles — the accumulation of trifles — that 
makes ultimate success. For character, 
like wealth, may be amassed in small 
quantities, as well as acquired in one day. 
If you watch a woman dusting a room, 
\ou will know at once whether she will 
ever be able to do anything more impor- 
tant in the world, or whether she is des- 
tined to keep to such simple work all her 
days, going gradually from inefficiency to 
inefficiency, until she gives up at last in 
despair and falls into the ranks of the 
great procession of the failures in life. 
Watch a man harness a horse, or mend a 
fence; you can tell whether or not he will 
ever own a horse and a farm." It would 
seem that a man capable of holding so 
virile a pen would do well to restrain its 
facility-, lest it lose its force. ["The 
Friendship of Art," by Bliss Carman. 
Boston : L. C. Page & Company. Size, 
8x5% inches; pages, 302; price, $1.50.] 

"The Old Masters and their Pic- 
tures." This is a book prepared, as its 
title page announces, "for the use of 
learners and schools." It is unpreten- 
tious in plan, and yet it possesses a far 
higher value than many art-treatises 

which are presented under a form of ap- 
parent erudition. It is simply and 
clearly written, and its subject matter is 
authoritative, since it proceeds from the 
study of a critic whose learning and judg- 
ment have matured during a very ex- 
tended residence abroad. The author 
covers the ordinarj- field of historic art, 
devoting much space to the description of 
celebrated pictures, but never falling into 
the rhetorical commonplaces behind which 
half-instructed writers seek to hide the 
poverty of their art knowledge. Beside 
being thus valuable to the beginner, such 
descriptions are most pleasing to those 
familiar with the old masters, since they 
revive the pleasures of lapsed acquaint- 
anceship. ["The Old Masters and their 
Pictures," by Sarah Tytler. Boston: 
Little, Brown & Company, 1905. Size, 
8x6 inches ; pages, 369 ; illustrated ; price, 

"A Guide to the Birds of New 
England and Eastern New York" is 
a book most attractive even to one ignor- 
ant of the subject which it treats. It fur- 
ther possesses a quality necessary, but not 
always belonging to works of this class, 
since the knowledge offered by it is pre- 
sented in clear and systematic form. It 
is intended, as its author states in his 
preface, for "the growing class of begin- 
ners in bird study." It contains prelimi- 
nary chapters upon "birds and their sea- 
sons;" "migration;" "distribution," that 
is, a definition of the breeding areas of the 
birds common to the region under obser- 
vation ; "hints for field work," and "how 
to use the keys." This last named chap- 
ter immediately precedes the keys, which 
are arranged to be used in connection 
with the student's note book. There is 



also a map showing what the author 
names "the zones of life" : that is, the 
habitats of the different species. Having 
given in a plain way this extended infor- 
mation, the work develops into a true 
guide-book, illustrated by profiles of the 
birds described, and so printed as to pre- 
sent the principal facts in an easily acces- 
sible form. It is a book which even the 
weary reviewer does not willingly let 
escape from his hand, and, in chill No- 
vember, it makes one long to take "the 
key of the fields." ["A Guide to the 
Birds of New England and Eastern New 
York," by Ralph Hoffmann. Boston 
and New York: Houghton, Mifflin & 
Company, 1904. Size, S-xSi/j inches; 
pages, 350; illustrated by plates and cuts; 
price, $1.50 net.] 

"Among English Inns" is an attrac- 
tively printed and illustrated volume, in 
reality a guide to rural England, having 
its character successfully disguised under 
a narrative form, introducing a number of 
women who are types of travelers. Each 
of these is interesting to one who would 
follow the route described, because 
through her are indicated certain things 
to be enjoyed, avoided, or endured. No 
other book has as yet given such practical 
information upon this subject in so agree- 
able and so assimilative a form, and it is 
a work to be welcomed equally by those 
who wish to avail themselves of it as a 
guide, and by those whose use of it is to 
be limited to the pleasure derivable from 
its pages. The head pieces of the chap- 
ters with their gable ends of inns and their 
well-drawn initial letters will repay an 
hour's study on the part even of those 
who are familiar with such designs, and 
the illustrations are representative, recall- 

ing vividly to the old traveler his delight 
in the hedge-rows and village streets of 
England. ["Among English Inns," by 
Josephine Tozier. Boston : L. C. Page 
& Company; size, 8x51/0 inches; pages, 
255; illustrated; price, $1.60.] 


IN "Harper's Bazar" for October, Miss 
Elia M. Peattie tells the story of the 
work of Jane Addams of Hull House, 
Chicago. To quote directly, she says: "It 
is a fact that this little, dark, soft-voiced 
woman is one of the strongest forces for 
good in all Chicago. Her clear, direct 
mind, her simple, aspiring spirit, her gentle 
personality, spell out kindness. She has 
come without creeds or formulas. She 
has merely had the patience to hear the 
other side. If there is a minority report 
anywhere, she wants to know what it is. 
Truth, she has discovered, so frequently 
dwells with the minority." The publica- 
tion printing this sketch is to be com- 
mended for its action in giving to the 
world the facts of a life so unusual and 

In the "Contemporary Review" for 
September, Erik Givskov gives the result 
of his observations upon the "Small Indus- 
tries of France." After briefly indicating 
that unnatural social conditions are always 
produced by injustice, and illustrating his 
point by referring to the lack of small 
holdings in Great Britain, the author com- 
pares the life of the English, with that of 
the French peasant. He writes: "That 



France is one of the richest countries of 
Western Europe is, without doubt, largely 
due to the great number of its peasant 
farmers, who cultivate their little plots of 
land with a love and care found only 
among small holders, and, at the same 
time, carry on some petty industn,'. Al- 
most every house lies half hidden behind a 
thicket of fruit and rose trees, and behind 
the flower-pots in the large windows, or 
sitting on the threshold, as the case may 
be, one sees the whole family in busy activ- 
ity, turning out ribbons, laces, brushes, 
combs, knives, baskets, or whatever may 
be the special industrj' of the district." 
While all these peasant farmers are not 
represented as prosperous by Herr Givs- 
kov, he further states : "Wherever a water- 
fall has been made to yield its energj' for 
the production of electric motive power, or 
a few peasants have cooperated to pur- 
chase a gas motor, or a streamlet has been 
utilized to turn a water-wheel, wherever 
cooperation has enabled the peasant farm- 
ers to secure those advantages in the way 
of buying and selling which, at one time, 
seemed to be the inevitable monopoly of 
the great manufacturers — wherever, in 
short, modern processes have been adopted, 
there local industries are thriving, and the 
peasant farmers are prosperous." Cer- 
tainly, from a survey apparently as thor- 
ough and as truthful as this, we have one 
more proof that "the woolen stocking" has 

become one of the great factors in the 
world's finance. 

In Ireland similar industries are in 
process of organization. Their probable 
beneficent effects are discussed in "Dona- 
hoe's Magazine" by Seumas MacManus, 
from whom the following passage may be 
quoted: "I believe that the cottage indus- 
tries, whereat boys and girls would per- 
form their work around the sacred stones 
of their father's hearth, would bring with 
them by far the greatest amount of truly 
happy prosperity. When I look to the 
great manufacturing centers of England 
and Scotland, and know, as I do, the ap- 
palling amount of drunkenness, wretched- 
ness, misery and vice of all kinds in these 
manufacturing cities, I say in my heart: 
'May God preserve us from such aggrega- 
tions of factories, miseries and degrada- 
tion ! And I say, rather than introduce 
such degradation into our country, I 
should prefer to see our people remain in 
abject poverty, since in that poverty they 
have ever retained an elevation of soul and 
a gentleness of heart that is beyond all 
riches.' " It is true that the conditions of 
the Irish peasantry can in no way be com- 
pared with those existing in the rural dis- 
tricts of America. And yet we could wish, 
as fervently as the writer just quoted, for 
the establishment of village and fireside 
industries throughout the United States. 



TO meet the increasing demands of its patrons, The Craftsman, with this 
number, adds a new feature to its already crowded pages, with the purpose 
of still further broadening its campaign of education in all that relates to the 
building, equipping and furnishing American homes, and to better standards of muni- 
cipal and decorative art. 

The Publisher's "Open Door Department" will be chiefly devoted to topics 
relating to the crafts or industries naturally allied to these purposes, and presented in 
the main from the view-point of the individual or firm representing the particular 
art, craft, or industry noted in these pages. 

The Craftsman assumes no responsibility for any special claims which may be 
set forth by interested parties, other than that which is implied in the fact that only 
reputable and responsible concerns will be recognized under any circumstances. 

The already established character and circulation, and the steadily increasing 
influence of The Craftsman among a large clientele directly interested in home 
building and furnishing, have brought it in close contact with the wishes and needs 
of many correspondents all over the country. 

Every mail brings scores of requests for information or suggestion in regard to 
collateral features and details, not included in the utilities attempted in The 
Craftsman Workshops, and we are assured in advance that the "Open Door" oppor- 
tunity will prove of practical advantage to our patrons and ourselves by enabling 
correspondents to get their facts at first hands. 

While reserving the privilege of preference and opinion, when solicited. The 
Craftsman is always glad to refer inquirers to the representative concerns in these 
collateral branches, and especially as a reciprocal courtesy to those who are disposed 
to help themselves by using the business pages of The Craftsman for business pur- 
poses and business profit. 

THE The health and comfort of a home depend so largely upon the heat- 

KELSEY ing apparatus, that a heating plant which furnishes an artifical warmth 

HYGIENIC and temperature nearest to natural summer air, is a vital sanitary need. 
HEATING After fifteen years of practical test, with over twenty-five thousand 

of the Kelsey Warm Air Generators now in use, the Kelsey Heating 
Company of Syracuse, N. Y., confidently invites careful attention to the principles 
employed in warming the air, the construction and arrangement by which ventilation, 
as well as heat, is secured, and the scientific basis upon which the hygienic conditions 
are fully met. 

The principle of the Kelsey Generator is to warm great volumes of fresh air 
by bringing it into actual contact with very extensive and properly heated surfaces. 
This is accomplished by sending the air in separate channels through corrugated cast 
iron iiues and sections which surround the fire. 

By dividing the air into as many flows as there are sections, It is more thoroughly 



and evenly heated than bj' simply passing a body of air over, or next to a hot surface. 
But an ounce of fact is worth a pound of explanation. In a Kelsey Generator of 
average size, there are 65 square feet of heating surface to every square foot of grate 
area, which is more than double that of any ordinary furnace. 

The manner in which the air is brought into contact with these heating surfaces 
gives the proper quantity of properly warmed, but not superheated air, insuring even 
heat in every room, pure breathing air, and a minimum consumption of fuel. 

The Kelsey principle of ventilation is also of the highest sanitary importance, 
affording fresh air without the risk of opening doors and windows; causing draughts 
and sudden changes in temperature, only less dangerous perhaps, than breathing 
vitiated air. 

Seven hundred dealers now selling the Kelsey Hygienic System of Heating, rep- 
resenting the exclusive agenc>' in their respective localities, scattered all over the 
country, will afiford easy opportunities for those interested in hygienic heating, to see 
this system in practical operation, and where it has been put to that best of all tests, 
actual experience and its results. 

THE CARE OF Is there anything mere delightful, after the possession of good 

BOOKS books themselves which one loves to read, than to have proper 

"housing" for them? 

Good books are like good people ; they need good care, and he who shows the 
book-lover how to best care for his books is a friend indeed. 

The designers of the Globe-Wernicke Bookcases are entitled to this meed of the 
book-lover's praise and thanks. The ingenuity with which these cases are constructed, 
so that they are adaptable to all places, conditions and sizes of books, make them addi- 
tionally precious. How often there is a nook in one's library, sitting room, or even 
dining room, where there is plenty of space for books, but where an ordinary book 
shelf would seem incongruous. Here it is that one of these adaptable "Elastic Book- 
cases" can be placed, and with an easy chair, one can sit in this cozy corner and enjoy 
to the full the delight of reading one of his favorites. This is to forget the cares of 
the world. This is to forget the "flesh and the devil," for in the company of one of 
the great minds of the past, or the present, soul touches soul, and one is lifted above the 
petty and mean things of this life. 

But this is not all that the Globe-Wernicke does for the business and literary 
man. Order is Heaven's first law, and these people, with an eye to business, have 
furthered on earth this divine principle. How much time is lost because papers and 
letters are not in order! A man is in the habit of making notes of all sorts of subjects, 
and wishes to refer to them at any and everj' turn. The Globe-Wernicke shows him 
how to do it with the minimum of trouble. 

They are good people to deal with. We know them well. We can vouch for 
their reliability and can certify to their promptness and patience in dealing with the 
most difficult questions in their lines. Our readers will make no mistake in writing to 


the Globe-Wernicke Company for any information they may desire, and they may rest 
assured of honorable treatment in all their business dealings. 

-^ -& 
The poet, Tennyson, is responsible for the euphonious expression of the fact: 

"There are no birds in last year's nests." 
While this is obviously true of birds' nests, it has no application to the back num- 
bers and files of The Craftsman, and just at this season the thoughtful librarian 
and others, will allow us to suggest the prudence of checking up the back numbers, 
supplying the missing links to complete the files of the year just closed, and ordering 
the bound volumes since 1901 while they are still available. 

.^ -^ 
TECO As Christmas time approaches, the old and never settled question 

POTTERY as to what is the best present to make arises anew. It is a question that 
AND THE cannot be settled, except on each fresh occasion. Conditions change, 
HOLIDAYS tastes change, but it is a never-failing index of refinement that the 
giver make his present one which will please by appealing to the taste 
of the receiver. Choice pottery of elegant form, pleasing to the eye and satisfying to 
the artistic instinct, is always suitable for such a purpose as a Christmas gift, and Teco 
Pottery is made with especial reference to such ideal purposes. Flowers never look so 
well on the dining, or library table, as when suitably placed in a piece of dainty Teco 
ware. A lamp of Teco ware in itself sets off a room, gives that fine, dainty, delicate 
hint of color that is so pleasing to the eye, and soothing to the nerves. We are a nerv- 
ous people, made so by our strenuous life. In our quieter moments we should so sur- 
round ourselves with objects of subdued tone, beautiful form and generally pleasing 
appearance, that they will have a direct and soothing influence upon our rasped nerves. 
To give such a gift is to be a true friend, one whose thoughtfulness goes beyond the 
pleasure of the moment and sees the lasting joy and comfort in the very nature of the 
thing he gives. The Gates Potteries, of 633 Chamber of Commerce, Chicago, will 
gladly correspond with any who wish to know more about Teco ware. 

•9 '» 
It is both a pleasure and an encouragement to receive orders for sample copies 
of The Craftsman, or letters asking information about the Homebuilders' Club. In 
many cases The Craftsman would enjoy the privilege of giving fuller particulars 
of special departments, if the correspondents would give some hint of their individual 
needs or wishes, especially when remitting for special copies of the handsome brochure, 
"What is Wrought in The Craftsman Workshops." 

.^ .& 
SAFE-KEEPING " 'Tis true, 'tis pity, pity 'tis, 'tis true," can be said of many 

OF HOME- things in life beside those referred to by Shakspere. It is true 

TREASURES that there are burglars and thieves, and it is a pity it is true. Yet 
sensible men and women face the facts of life, no matter how un- 
pleasant they are, and seek to guard against the evils they cannot prevent. So to foil 



the attempt of the burglar, safes are made, into which precious things are placed and 
carefully locked up. A safe is not an agreeable thing to look at, but it is growing more 
and more a necessity. So to provide the necessity, and yet remove as far as possible the 
unpleasant features of its appearance, the Herring-Hall-Marvin Safe Company and The have joined intelligences, and the result is a line of household furniture of 
various kinds in which the safe is securely concealed and hidden. Thus it serves two 
purposes. It gives the sense of safety for one's valuables, and at the same time hides 
the method of securing that safetj'. 

But not only does the Herring-Hall-Marvin Safe Company make this kind of safe. 
They are the representative safe manufacturers of the United States. Everything in 
safes from the tiniest to the vast vault for the guarding of a nation's treasures is in 
their line. So, if you need anything of that kind, write to them, and, our word for it, 
you may feel absolutely "safe" that your "safe" interests are all "safe" in their hands. 

^ .^ 

The Craftsman invites and appreciates the good will and co-operation of all 
interested in the world's progress, and in its determination to make The Craftsman 
a magazine with a well defined purpose, and so thoroughly in earnest, so loyal to its 
ideals, that those who read it, will catch the inspiration and share in a new born 
courage and hope for the up-building of a nobler civilization, based on the spirit of 
truth and love, and the great law of mutual aid. 

.^ ^& 
THE ROBINEAU Mrs. Alsop-Robineau, editor of "The Keramic Studio," has 

POTTERY just completed, in a beautiful location on the hill overlooking 

Onondaga Park, Syracuse, the building of a small pottery, where 
she will make porcelain which will be an entirely new departure in the fictile crafts of 
this country. 

The body she is using is porcelain fired at about 2400° F., the same temperature 
at which the modern Sevres ware is fired, and at which most of the old Chinese mono- 
chrome porcelains were made. This is much lower than the temperature used at Co- 
penhagen, but the disadvantage of a too high firing is that it destroys most colors and 
the decoration is confined to the use of blues, greens, greys and pinks; while below 
2500° the range of colors is practically unlimited. 

The decoration of Mrs. Robineau's ware will be almost exclusively in the model- 
ing and colored glazes. Her experiments have been mostly made on mat glazes, which 
are opaque and prevent any decoration under the glaze other than designs modeled in 
the paste. 

To her individual work in vases and other ornamental pieces will be added the 
regular production at the pottery of tiles, door knobs, and other articles for interior dec- 
oration, and garden pottery, made of the same porcelain body, and decorated with the 
same mat, crystalline and flamme glazes. There is a great demand at present for fine 
artistic tiling, and it seems strange that practically all the work done so far in this line 
is of a comparatively low fired faience body, which is not durable, being affected by 



changes of temperature, frost and moisture, while the thoroughly vitrified body of 
grand feu porcelains and gres will remain intact for centuries, as is shown by the old 
Chinese wares. 

The great difficulty of handling and firing these grand feu porcelains is evidently 
one of the reasons why pottery craftsmen prefer to use the low fired clays. Kaolinic 
clays are not so plastic, they require much more care in handling and firing, coal can not 
be used as fuel, and the slightest mistake in the regulation of the firing may irretriev- 
ably injure the colors. Besides the proportion of losses in the kiln is much greater. 
Consequently, porcelain cannot be produced as cheaply as ordinary earthenware, while 
the buying public is, as a rule, still unable to understand why a small piece of porcelain 
should be worth as much as a large piece of pottery, or more. This is the most dis- 
couraging feature to the artist potter: the difficulty of finding a large buying public at 
remunerative prices. But there is a fascination in this grand feu work which is not 
found in ordinary potting. If disappointments are frequent, there is also an unlimited 
and unexpected range of beautiful color effects, and there is a special charm in the colors 
and texture of the ware which cannot be obtained with ordinary clays and low tem- 
perature firing. 

.^ -^ 

Free membership in the Homebuilders' Club is included in the annual subscrip- 
tion price for The Craftsman^ and enables every subscriber to command, free of cost, 
ripe professional skill, practical suggestions or advice on home building, or furnish- 
ing, which is in itself a valuable asset. 

Complete plans and specifications for any one of The Craftsman House Series are 
furnished without charge, when desired, during the life of the subscription. To those 
whp are not prepared to build, and yet may be indulging in the ambitious hope of some 
day being able to own a home, or furnish one to their minds, these privileges and ad- 
vantages would both encourage and educate the individual, and have a shaping influence 
in forming correct ideals and standards in all that relates to home surroundings. 



From photograph lent by Carl Ahrena, Willink, New York 



jlHAT an alluring subject to talk about, one would sup- 
pose on first view! How large the field, how rich in 
fiowers, how varied in interest! What an art harvest 
this great and rich earth must have yielded in the nearly 
three hundred years since the Pilgrims landed! But 
sad to say, there is, in reality, practically speaking, no 
such thing as municipal sculpture in America. A flat and disheart- 
ening statement to make, no doubt! 

Municipal sculpture really means "city sculpture:" sculpture 
called into being, and paid for, by a city government. I doubt if there 
be such sculpture in America anywhere. If so, it has escaped my 

But hold! there is one exception, and that is the sculpture on the 
City Hall, Philadelphia. With the exception of this one building, I 
do not believe that there is any other finished building in America, on 
which a city government has spent one dollar for sculpture. 

The same is true of our parks. Where is there any sculpture, or 
fountain, erected in any park, by any city government in America? 
Is it possible that the one lone fountain in Central Park, New York, 
is the exception? What a curious showing! How strange! 

Of course, we have a few very good portrait statues, both eques- 
trian and pedestrian, scattered over the country, together with a large 
number that are very mediocre. We have an immense number of 
soldiers' monuments, a few very good, and the vast majority atrocious. 
We have some fountains and arches, and a meagre amount of archi- 
tectural sculpture. But this has been paid for, the greater part by 
popular subscription, and the remainder by either the national, or 
the State governments. This logically can not come under the head 
of municipal sculpture. It is true that the New York City Hall of 
Records will have some sculpture upon it, paid for by the city. But 
it is not yet ready for allusion to be made concerning it in print. So, 
it holds true that the small amount of sculpture on the Philadelphia 
City Hall is the only purely municipal sculpture so far created by 
nearly three hundred years of the life of the American people. 



Is there any one fact which seems more solidly to confirm the 
opinion of the enemies of a government of the people, by the people 
and for the people, that republican institutions are fundamentally 
hostile to the growth of art which, in the last analysis, is the test of the 
quality of any civilization? At least, the various travelers who come 
here from abroad, to write concerning us in their books and journals, 
think so and say so with, to us humiliating, emphasis, and many 
invoke the practical non-existence of municipal art, in this country, as 
proof that republican government in America, judged from the high- 
est standard, is a ridiculous failure. And the entire reactionary press, 
as well as all the forces in favor of a return towards obscurantism, 
both monarchical and clerical, use this as a powerful lever to retard 
the evolution of the people toward a larger liberty and a wider pros- 

Of course, these fanatic enemies of a government by the people are 
wrong in their conclusions. But, the facts which they can truthfully 
evoke can be twisted and used with telling effect upon the unreason- 
ing, who never seek for underlying causes. And it may be truthfully 
said that the indifference of all our city governments toward munici- 
pal art, especially toward sculpture in its various forms, is, indirectly, 
retarding the more rapid advance of democratic government all over 
the world. For, the advocates of monarchy and government by 
divine right, point to our ugly cities and our, to them mysterious, 
indifference to municipal embellishment, as the direct result of our 
form of government. This, according to them, is convincing proof 
of their claim that a democracy is brutalizing in its tendencies. 

During a ten years intermittent residence in Europe, I have fre- 
quently seen articles in journals and reviews making statements to this 

Of course, the form of our government here, is not responsible for 
the ugliness of our cities and the meagreness of municipal art of all 
kinds and the almost total lack of municipal sculpture. The cause is 
not the government, our constitution, or our parsimoniousness; not our 
indifference to the beautiful, but, solely, our indifference to the ugly. 

While we have been de-barbarized sufficiently to appreciate a 
beautiful thing, we have not yet been sufliciently sensitivized to be 
shocked and angered by the ugly things which grow up around us like 
mushrooms. The reason is that we love power so much and the 






















wealth which alone brings power, and we pursue that power so madly 
that we rush by, oblivious of the ugly, are not shocked by it, we do not 
revile it, do not resolve to eliminate it, and we stop in our wild pursuit 
of power to look at some beautiful thing only when some one, with a 
soul finer than our own, thrusts us directly in front of it. Then we 
say: "Fine!" catch our breath, and rush away again to pursue that 
same insane thing called Power — which few know how to use well 
when they get it. It is this modern disease — this twentieth century 
pest: "money-power-mania," reducing our daily living, our daily 
prayers, our daily dying even, to a ridiculous commercial expression 
which, increasingly, since the accursed Civil War, has blunted our 
physical and spiritual nerves enough to enable us to exist in the midst 
of an ocean of ugliness with a cow-like contentment, and immune 
against all irritation and any rebellious resolve to change things. 

I know that there is a large minority of truly cultured Americans 
who are starving and clamoring for beauty in our cities, and who 
escape to Europe whenever they can, in order to gratify their love of 
beauty of surroundings. But the majority rules here, and refuses to 
satisfy the minority, who can only suffer and wait, now and then 
sending forth a protest. 

This minority, I am sure, will agree with me, when I say that if 
Pericles, Phidias and Plato, not to speak of Ictinus, Apelles and Aris- 
totle, were suddenly condemned to choose between New York, St. 
Louis, Cincinnati, Chicago, Boston, New Orleans, Philadelphia, 
Pittsburg and Hades, they would choose the latter, after a sad and 
tearful inspection of those cities. Not because there are not a few 
beautiful spots and things in each of those cities which have been 
created by a few men who love the beautiful, and by those who have 
expended an amount of energy out of proportion to actual results 
achieved ; but because these few spots and things serve only to accent- 
uate the actual presence of a wilderness of glaring and conflicting 
ugly things. 

It is an everlasting source of astonishment to me to note that, for 
twenty-five years, about ten steamship lines have been carrying an- 
nually crowded ship loads of Americans to roam over the embellished 
cities of Europe, and bring them back again; no change apparently 
having taken place in their psychological make-up; bringing them 
back with the same blunted spiritual nerves, immune, as before, 



against all irritation from the prevailing ugliness found everywhere 
in American cities; and my astonishment reaches a climax when I 
hear them say : "Well ! America is good enough for me !" Then, with 
Beaumarchais, I say: "We must laugh at it in order not to cry." 

The chauvinistic apologist for America, who is able to accept 
whole avenues of Chicago and New York, ugliness, but who goes into 
hypocritical convulsions over a little Berlin, or Vienna immorality, 
whenever his e pluribus unum spread-eagle-ism is challenged, will 
never fail to repeat the hoary refrain : "Well, we are young yet as a 
nation." Nothing more stupid has been said during the last fifty 
years. For, we are the inheritors of the knowledge of all the ages. 
We know all that there is to be known about municipal beauty. The 
fault is not intellectual, but moral. It is not a matter of knowing, but 
a feeling. It is not brains we lack, but refinement. 

The truth is, that we are in the midst of a phase in our evolution 
which justified Emerson in saying: "The reputations of the nineteenth 
century will one day be quoted to prove its barbarism." 

The Civil War was the greatest curse that ever befell this nation. 
It let loose all the ignoble passions of man, like Pandora when she 
opened her fateful box. During the War, even our army contractors 
opened the path toward national corruption. It was increased under 
President Grant, by the carpet-bagger regime, the whiskey ring, the 
star-route frauds, and then by the credit-mobilier swindle. Later, 
came the Tweed-ring, and then its legitimate fruit — the Philadelphia 
ring and the St. Louis ring — and then, the national ring which in- 
cludes all the state legislatures: most of which are purchasable, as is 
openly charged, and daily, on the platform and in the press, and all 
honeycombed with the disease called "Graft," and, by means of 
which, our respectable merchants and church pillars are enabled to 
buy special legislation and to corrupt immunity from general laws. 
Until now, it is a question whether, to-day, there is one single honest 
man in political life, or in commerce. We are so adroit in our cor- 
ruption, so respectable in it, that we are no longer able to see that our 
corruption is neither intelligent nor reputable. The war and its 
consequent corruption developed a movement of colossal commercial 
gambling. Vistas of power and wealth rose, and, then, we began a 
pell-mell, headlong plunge and scramble for all kinds of plunder. 
The pushers and the astute discovered thousands of chances to get 

























power and wealth by feverishly rushing, pushing, and digging in all 
kinds of places, by all kinds of means, good and bad — so frequently 
bad — that the bad became really fashionable. Fabulous fortunes 
were made which accentuated the pell-mell, until what little re- 
mained of the dignity and refinement of life, as it was led before the 
War, disappeared, and our finer senses and sentiments were gradually 
so blunted that most of us are unable to see that we are passing through 
an epoch of hypocrisy and dishonesty so profound that for a parallel 
we must go back to decadent Rome. This is the fundamental cause 
of the ugliness of our cities, and of the absence of civic pride and of 
municipal art. 

The founders of this Republic, under pressure, set aside the aes- 
thetic questions, although they were profoundly sensible to their im- 
portance. But they were too busy to discuss them, at a time when they 
were fighting for the life of the nation. And yet, somehow, Washing- 
ton and Jefferson found time to confer seriously, regarding the future 
capital, when L'Enfant was laying out Washington City. They in- 
sisted that its beauty should be constantly kept in view. The result is 
that Washington is the only city of America that is even fairly beau- 
tiful. Moreover, the busy Jefferson found time, somehow, to design 
the architecture, and even the ornaments of his own house at Monti- 
cello. Think of our President now-a-days — in this epoch of "the 
strenuous life" — designing a frieze for his parlor, or a pillar for his 
porch! Only men having dignified views of national life and refine- 
ment, could have built the Capitol at Washington : the grandest build- 
ing on earth, in spite of its unfinished state, its deterioration, and its 
defacement by the awful Brumidi frieze, for which the present gen- 
eration of degenerate legislators is responsible. 

Had the War not come, with its consequent corruption, the Ameri- 
can man would be a finer being, and, long ago, we should have insti- 
tuted municipal activity in the embellishment of our cities, by paint- 
ings, sculptures, fountains, park-gates, etc. Had the War not en- 
gendered an insane individualism and a profound selfishness, which 
exhaust themselves in heterogeneous and lavish spending of money 
on private palaces of incongruous and conflicting designs, to the detri- 
ment of the growth of civic spirit and of a love also for the general 
beauty of the city, we should, long ago, have had a majority to insist 
actively upon the appointment in every large city, of an art commis- 



sion for the purpose of positively initiating civic embellishment; and 
a certain percentage of taxes would have been set aside regularly 
every year, for beautifying these cities as a whole. But the majority 
of us being more corrupt than we know, and steeped in selfishness, do 
not seem to care about the general welfare of our cities beyond the 
stifling of crime, pestilence, and fire. And we worry about these, 
only because they might endanger, not our virtues, but our lives 
and our money. Think of New York's budget, for this year, of 
$110,000,000 — and not one dollar for art! And this, after Athens, 
Venice, Florence, Barcelona, Paris, and other cities have set the exam- 
ple of the virtue and the value of municipal embellishment. Is it not 
incredible? If we were poor, nothing could be said. But, in the 
face of the fact that we are the richest nation of the world, is it not a 
sad indictment of our entire mental and moral condition? 

No, the root of the evil of ugliness in American cities is the insane 
worship of business and its strenuousness, colossal selfishness, the 
amassing of private fortunes and the expenditure of them upon 
private houses, with the consequent indifference to public palaces and 
public duty. Were this not so, there would be set aside, in the budget 
of every city in the country, so much for sewers, so much for schools, 
so much for hospitals, so much for pest-fighting, so much for fire- 
fighting, and so much for crime-fighting; but, above and before all, 
as an unquestionable necessity, so much for municipal art — especially 
in times of peace, when our farms overflow with millions of bushels of 
grain, our mines teem with natural wealth, and our factories turn out 
millions of tons of material stuff. 

Then, there is the unqualifiable mania in America for "breaking 
the record," for doing things quickly, and for developing the country 
and all its resources at a rapid rate. Talk with any business man, and 
you will gather the idea that we should quickly fill up the country with 
the riff-raff laborers of all nations, in order to develop quickly, and 
also to exhaust quickly our fields, forests and mines. Instead of build- 
ing a railroad solidly and safely, it must be built quickly and run 
quickly; no matter how many are killed quickly. Instead of con- 
structing a city solidly in stone, it must be built up rapidly, and execra- 
bly, of wooden clapboards and tin plate. Instead of building an un- 
derground in New York, at once, as a few far-seeing men at first pro- 
posed, they must needs build the horrible elevated roads and quickly. 



And at the bottom of all this insanity for quickness is the desire for get- 
ting rich quickly, by fair means or foul, for the purpose in nearly every 
case of making a vulgar display of wealth and power. Result : insan- 
ity, vice, and crime on the increase, and civic spirit on the decrease; 
until in no civilized country on earth is individual vulgarity so ram- 
pant and real civic spirit so dead. It is useless for us to deny this. 
We would better face the facts and correct them. It is futile to expect 
any municipal sculpture as long as this spirit lasts. 

If the majority of our people were not insensible to the ugly, 
through their barbaric love of the big, the powerful, the huge and the 
quick, however stupid, they would soon come forward and say: "It is 
municipal beauty that we want and quickly, not municipal hugeness. 
We want to see, and quickly, our surroundings beautified while we 
live, for we can no longer endure this ugliness, and we shall insist on 
building fewer streets, sewers and ditches, fewer docks, railways and 
canals, until we shall have more statues and pictures, more bridges 
and parks of beauty." Then our legislators would soon set aside a 
certain proportion of the taxes for municipal embellishment; all the 
money would not go for purely material things — from prisons to 
poor-houses — and all our cities would take on a different aspect, and 
life in them would become with sufficient quickness more worth the 
living. No law stands in the way of doing this, for, if Philadelphia 
could spend $50,000 for the sculpture of its City Hall, and New York 
a like sum, for its Hall of Records, these cities can just as well spend 
every year $50,000, or more, or less, for sculpture, for public build- 
ings, bridges and parks. 

The founders of the Republic were finer, more cultured, and wiser 
men than those who govern this nation to-day. They instituted pop- 
ular government that they might insure the happiness of the people. 
And they were wise enough to know that the happiness of the people 
can only be realized by creating an environment of liberty, health and 
beauty: the three essentials of any conceivable state of happiness. 
They prophesied that democracy could and would create such an 
environment. And, those who refused to allow the South to secede 
in peace, in 1861, but whipped her back into the national family, 
claimed that the preservation, intact, of this democracy for the pur- 
pose of assuring an environment of happiness for the people, was 
their almost only justification for precipitating the horrors of the 



Civil War, which could have been avoided by quietly allowing the 
South to secede. 

If this nation, therefore, purpose to prove that popular govern- 
ment does work for higher ends, does really foster the highest elements 
of civilization, not only as much, but even more than any monarchy 
that has existed^ — as our sires prophesied it would — it behooves it to 
discomfit the partisans of monarchy by paying more attention, than it 
has hitherto done, to the creation of those things which are the oppo- 
site of the grossly material. If it fail to do this, if it fail permanently 
to work, not only for liberty and health, but, also, for beauty — the most 
important of the triune basis of happiness — then, popular government 
will fail to realize the hopes of its founders of 1776, and of its defend- 
ers of 1861, and might as well be wiped off the face of the earth. For 
then it would have failed in its mission. 

Happily, the national and the state governments are beginning to 
see this, and are affording some conspicuous examples of art patronage 
and of sufficient success to stimulate all our city governments to do the 
same. And if the nation and the state can spend money for art, the 
city, as such, can also do so. 

The greatest danger of a republic, in which no hereditary honors 
and lands are given for conspicuous public services, is this: "What is 
everybody's business is nobody's business." The larger a republic be- 
comes, the more grave becomes this danger. For, in times of peace, 
when no foreign foe threatens, the sure tendency of this is to make us 
fatally indifferent to the general good and to increase our selfishness. 
And we are all alike. Municipal embellishment, by our forefathers, 
was made everybody's business — but only under pressure. They were 
too busy establishing liberty and health in our environment. The 
result is that beauty hardly exists. We are free, and we are healthy, 
but we are not beautiful, and not strenuously trying to be so. We 
produce more canned beef, wagon wheels, and shoes, and build more 
common-place churches, schools and libraries than any other people 
on earth, but these things are only means to the end of life; the end 
being the beautiful. 

Now, what shall we do to be saved? We must begin by turning 
some of our strenuous energy, our foolish love of quickness, and of 
record-breaking, from business and sport into the embellishment of 
our cities. We must convert ourselves to the idea that city embellish- 









merit is the city's business — not the business of a few individuals who 
charitably donate now and then a statue, or who now and then start a 
subscription for some public fountain. Then, we must insist on com- 
pelling our city government to set aside annually, and against the 
clamor of all cranks, one-tenth of one per cent, of the total revenue 
of the city for city embellishment — and as long as needed. This 
money to be placed at the disposal of an art commission responsible 
to the city, and presided over by the Mayor and his chiefs of staff; a 
commission sufficiently large and broad-minded to insure wise ex- 
penditure. This commission to have the power not only to pass 
upon donations made by individuals to the city, but to initiate the 
creation of all kinds of art-objects to embellish the city. 

If the city of New York were to set aside $110,000 from its budget 
of this year of $1 10,000,000, would any municipal interest really suf- 
fer? Not at all. Any statement to the contrary would be pure hy- 
pocrisy; and what could not the Municipal Art Society of New York 
do toward that city's embellishment, with $1 10,000 per year for twenty 
years? Any argument against such a policy, if space allowed, could 
be shown to be simply hypocritical. 

I do not know that anyone in America has ever made this plea for 
a regular appropriation, as long as needed, of one-tenth of one per 
cent., from the annual taxes collected, in every city of America, for 
the continuous beautifying of those cities. But it could be made and 
emphasized vigorously, not only in the interest of city embellishment, 
but in order to conserve and propagate popular and happiness-procur- 
ing government. When this shall be once done, we shall soon not 
only rob the fanatic and pessimistic enemies of a government by the 
people of their strongest arguments, which they are now using with 
effect all over the earth, but we should quickly have such results as to 
enable any American to do — what he cannot do now — to talk with 
genuine pride of "municipal sculpture from the American point of 



Now, of course, no obtainable amount of money can ever make 
most of our large cities beautiful. With the exception of Washing- 
ton, no one of them was laid out for the sake of beauty, but rather for 
the sake of commercial activity. 



And then the absurd and often brutal individualism of the Anglo- 
Saxon, which inheres in the American, makes him feel that he has the 
Divine Right to put up on his property any kind of monstrosity, no 
matter if it spoil a whole neighborhood, and this has ended in the most 
marvelous hodge-podge of architectural vagary ever witnessed on 
earth. This is especially true of New York. 

Is there anything more stupendous than New York, below Twenty- 
Third Street? The world never saw such buildings. They are mon- 
uments to the dreaded power of those who built them. But they form, 
nevertheless, a chaotic, inter-antagonistic, anarchistic mass of bedlam- 
istic ugliness — in spite of the lavish display of commercial carving on 
both the huge and the little buildings — those 30 feet and those 300 feet 
high, juxtaposed cheek-by-jowl ; most of them showing three sides of 
ugly brick, and one side of incongruous carving, and which so surely 
quarrel with one another, that a dynamic spiritual disturbance seems 
to charge the air and rack the brain, through the offended nerves of 
the eye. 

No! That part of New York is doomed to remain ugly, although 
it is immensely interesting and astonishing. It reminds me of Tur- 
ner's fear-inspiring picture : "The Valley of Discord," in the National 
Gallery, London. 

From Twenty-Third to Fifty-Ninth Street, is not much better. 
From Fifty-Ninth to One Hundred Tenth Street is a region which 
ofifers hope, and some fairly handsome streets. But these elements 
are not enough to save the city, below the Harlem, from condemna- 
tion — aesthetically. 

The only hope for New York is to build a new city beyond the 
Harlem. There, is a splendid chance to make a world-city of beauty. 
Shall we do it? I doubt it. Are we too greedy? Not entirely. 
Shall we do the first thing needed: pass a law setting a limit to the 
height of buildings, beyond which no man can go? I doubt it. Are 
we too greedy? That is not the main reason. 

The main reason is because Individualism a I'outrance has become 
a mania in American life and art. We are hungry to be different 
from our fellows in something. We insist upon being all alike in the 
matter of dress suits, but different in the matter of something, no 
matter how ugly that difference may be. So, we take our revenge in 
being different and unique in our houses. 



Now, while it is true that the element of uniqueness enhances the 
value of a beautiful thing, ugliness is no excuse for the existence of the 
merely unique. One beautiful thing, however conventional, is worth 
a whole cargo of ugly things, however unique. Has this truth ever 
dawned upon the followers of the aesthetician Veron (who, in his 
crusade against the French Academy, gave an immense impetus to 
mere "individualism" in art) who, in their hot egotism to produce 
something ^^epatant," something singular and astonishing, have almost 
made a cult of the ugly, through their indifference to the beautiful, 
and, so, have produced that wilderness of things which Gerome called : 
"les ordures a la mode" — (the filthy things in fashion) — and plunged 
the whole art movement into anarchy, to the disgust of the cultured 

Why should one man build a house a hundred feet higher than his 
neighbour, simply to be singular and unique? It is stupid. Why 
should one man be allowed full rein to exercise such stupidity, if his 
act will uglify a whole neighborhood, by creating an architectural 
wart on the face of the city? Shall we ever prevent this? I doubt it. 
I fear that both greed, and the insane vanity to be unique and different 
from our fellows in something, at any cost, will effectually keep us 
blunted to the ugly results our architectural vagaries may produce. I 
doubt that the citizens of the metropolis of our wonderful land will 
ever develop enough collective spirit, real civic pride, and love for 
New York to assemble, and, with hearts beating high, say: "Let us 
build a new metropolis, a really beautiful city, a grand city, beyond 
the Harlem." 

To break the record in everything, from mule-racing to yacht- 
racing, from steel-making to barrel-making, they can grasp. But to 
break the record for beauty made by Vienna, Berlin, and Paris, or 
even by far-away Lyons and Budapest — will they ever try? I doubt it. 

What will be left to the cultured minority? The parks, squares, 
bridges, a few boulevards, the public buildings, and Riverside Drive. 
There, we can still do wonders to produce one oasis of beauty after 
another, in a desert of ugliness. And, it is to embellish these public 
spots which private greed and egotistic individualism cannot touch, 
or spoil, that we need the city's money. 

As examples of what other cities have done, I submit a few photo- 
graphs. I shall leave Paris aside entirely in this. Let us go to dis- 



tant Budapest, the capital of the much-despised Hungarian. Here, 
we have a city built up principally during the last sixty years. 
Here, the cornice lines of all buildings are limited to a certain 
height; liberty being given to push domes, tow^ers, and spires 
as far beyond as desired. First result: a straight sky-line, which, like 
that in Vienna, Berlin, Milan, and Paris, insures calm to the eye and 
soul, instead of the irritating unrest produced by the up-and-down, 
zig-zag, go-as-you-please sky-line of American cities. Second result: 
no cathedral dome or church spire, not even a statue, is wasted in that 
city. All these features become effectual embellishments. Third 
result: everybody builds up to the sky-line, and the city takes on an air 
of solidity. This is seen in Figure I., which shows the Andrassy 
street. Here, we find one general, prevailing style of building — the 
Florentine. But, no two buildings are alike, each one being individ- 
ual. The result: an immensely interesting variety in a restful har- 
mony. In Figure II. we have a view of Boulevard Elizabeth, show- 
ing in the foreground a large, handsome business building, embel- 
lished with sculpture, and, in the distance, the New York Life Insur- 
ance Building, and Cafe — one of the finest in Europe. Here, we note 
that every dome, and spire, and every turret, and statue, play an 
effective role in the general beauty of the view. In short, Budapest is 
one of the finest cities in the world. It has been built up during the 
last century, by men who worked, not for their own vulgar display, and 
to show their childish uniqueness of taste, but who, while not forget- 
ting themselves, labored for the benefit of the city as a whole. A simi- 
lar result can be produced in any city solely by limiting the heights of 
the roof lines of all the buildings. 

Let us now turn to Lyons, a city set in the center of France, and 
which few Americans visit. Here, also, we find the height of the roof 
lines limited, and the citizens pulling together to produce a city beau- 
tiful, not only in spots, but as a whole. A dozen photographs could 
be shown, but they would simply emphasize the effect produced by 
FiguresIIL, IV.,V. and VI. 

Does it require a long homily to prove what such sculptured mon- 
uments and fountains can do to make the squares and boulevards of a 
city lovable? Let us now turn to Marseilles. Here, we find the 
same conditions prevailing, as at Budapest and at Lyons, as well as in 
Europe generally. Figure VII. shows a beautiful fountain — a dona- 



tion. Figure VIII. reproduces two buildings forming the Art Mu- 
seum, connected by a colonnade and a chateau d'eau. The latter are 
utterly needless and useless: that is for use merely. They serve only 
the ends of beauty. The whole was paid for by public taxes. Think 
of any American city putting up such a useless amount of stone work, 
terracing and sculpture — just to beautify the city! 

We must not suppose that this beauty and the monuments of these 
cities are the result of ages of accumulation. For, nearly everything 
in the views so far given has been produced during the last thirty 
years. These public works are not the result of the charity of kings, 
but of the readiness of enlightened communities to spare a small per- 
centage of taxes for the embellishment, as a whole, of that place 
wherein they expect to live and to die. 

It is the fashion of superficial critics censuring France, and who 
are ignorant of the real character of its people, to harp on the surface 
flippancy and immorality of the French people. This is especially 
true of women. One would suppose that these moral censors went to 
that country simply to observe one side of French life. As if America 
did not come near to breaking the record in these matters, as well as 
in other things — if many of our ministers are to be believed! The 
fact remains that the only difference between the French and ourselves 
is, that we have inherited the Anglo-Saxon hypocritical preference of 
sinning in the dark, while the French find amusement in doing the 
same thing more openly. Tacitus already noted this difference be- 
tween the Gauls and the Britons. The flippancy of the French does 
not prevent them from having a substratum of worth so solid that they 
are to-day one of the strongest and, perhaps, the most civilized, people 
of the world. And, dear sisters of America, let me gently whisper in 
your lug, as Burns said, that when you shall have become as sensitive 
about the honesty of your husbands, the way they make their colossal 
fortunes, and how they spend them, as you are about their chastity ; and 
when you shall call as loudly for a paradise here on earth, now and 
quickly, as you do for one in the future, you will usher in a new era in 
American civilization! 

Let us now turn to Bordeau.x, France! Figure IX. shows the 
magnificent new monument to the Girondins erected partly by sub- 
scription and partly public taxation. Need I make any comments 
upon this? 



Figure X. shows a monumental cascade in the park at Barce- 
lona, in stone and bronze, and built during the last twenty-five years — 
in poverty-stricken Spain. 

Figure XI. shows the Academy at Athens — one of the most 
beautiful educational buildings I have seen — of marble, richly em- 
bellished with sculpture, and erected by the poor Greek people. 

Figure XII. is a view of the Prato at Padua, showing the unfin- 
ished cathedral, and the embellishment of the walls and bridges of the 
canal, with portrait-statues of the city's worthy sons: judges, soldiers, 
churchmen, poets, etc. These works date from the seventeenth 
century. What a lesson to us New Yorkers this view of Padua's 
promenade and mall presents! How uninteresting the flat prome- 
nade would be without these statues and graceful bridges! We have 
in Central Park, also, a mall and promenade built to receive statues 
of men dear to us. There are four there now. None have been 
added for fifteen years. There should have been t\venty added long 
ago to make the mall complete: a subject of pilgrimage and of pride, 
instead of disgrace, as it is now. 

Do not the twelve views given seem to lend color to the assertion 
of our fanatical foreign critics, that the net result of democracy does 
not tend to procure for any people the most important element of the 
triune basis of happiness: beauty of environment — no matter how 
truly it may provide the other two: liberty and health? 

Luckily France — the forerunner in so many things, comes to our 
rescue and proves by the working of its own Republic, that a demo- 
cratic government is not hostile to the growth of beauty, as long as its 
citizens have acquired the secret of civil effectiveness which is : to have 
one eye on the beauy of one's own surroundings, and the other eye on 
the beauty of the city as a whole. 

In conclusion, I repeat, let us force our city legislators to set aside 
one-tenth of one per cent, of city taxes as a regular thing, to make it the 
habit, the unwritten law, not to be questioned. Then, let us use this 
public money, in conjunction with private subscriptions, to embellish 
those spots which we can still claim as public, and, within one genera- 
tion, every American will be able to hold up his head with pride, and 
to substantiate the claim of his sires that a government by the people 
does work truly, and better than any monarchy, for that which is 
highest, best, and loveliest in life. 



HROUGH the efforts of advanced thinkers, art is coming 
to be regarded as a necessity of popular use and of daily 
life. The word has assumed a new sense, and in the 
benefits represented by the word all sorts and conditions 
of men are growing more and more anxious to partici- 
pate. The sense of form and the feeling for color are 
being diffused among the people, and, while the taste of the masses is 
still crude and barbarous, there is yet to be felt everywhere a promise 
of beauty to come, as subtile as the spring quality of light and air on a 
day of early March. 

In our own country, the cause of art is theoretically victorious. It 
is conceded that this great source of happiness must be granted freely 
to the people. Municipal councils, tax-payers, and the working 
classes for once concur: givers and beneficiaries being equally eager 
to enjoy results which, primarily immaterial, are known by the far- 
seeing to be thoroughly practical. 

Under our existing conditions of life, it might at first seem as use- 
less to attempt to establish a new system of art as to pour new wine into 
old bottles, or to patch old garments with new cloth; while to advo- 
cate an art for the people in presence of certain conservatives is to 
speak in an unknown tongue. But the movement is not only initiated ; 
it is already strong, and, as it develops, it will procure the contentment, 
improve the health, increase to an incalculable degree the pleasure of 
the masses, and so, indirectly, but powerfully, contribute to the perma- 
nence of our democratic institutions. 

It is not sufficiently recognized that the United States, as one result 
of their short corporate existence, possess an art-history showing as 
distinct phases as that of any other civilized country; the only differ- 
ences between the histories compared being length, value, and origi- 
nality of development. 

In the first period of American independence there existed an 
aristocratic art: somewhat weak according to our present standards, 
and given to Italianisms; yet always remaining refined, and accom- 
plishing much good, not only during the period of its activity, but also 
by its influences upon subsequent times. The "Athenaeums" and the 
"Academies," founded in the early days, bear witness by their very 



names to the aristocratic type of art in whose interests they were estab- 
lished, as well as do the statues and pictures constituting their treasures 
which, in the majority of instances, we no longer value absolutely, but 
simply as historical documents. 

The next period, broadly speaking, began at the close of the Civil 
War; for, until that time, aristocratic art had survived, much as an 
aged person slowly declines and reaches his end amid luxurious sur- 
roundings. The social consequences of the long civil strife were most 
disastrous: the number of the rich was greatly multiplied, and wealth 
came into the hands of those who used it like workmen ignorant of the 
power of edged tools. Art passed into a new phase, from aristocratic 
becoming capitalistic. It was vulgarized, but not diffused among 
the people. Its expressions in both the fine and the decorative branch- 
es, may be compared with the false luxury of the Second Empire in 
France. In our own country, personal ambitions, untempered by 
experience, and by that sane judgment which results from culture, 
passed ail legitimate bounds; the desire to possess objects of ornament 
beyond the reach of the many, seized the newly enriched, who neither 
knew nor cared anything of the real functions of art. These condi- 
tions reacted unhappily upon the producing sources. Architects, 
sculptors, and painters, in many cases, deliberately betrayed the honor 
of their professions, in order to flatter their patrons by offering 
them striking and showy works; in many cases, also, they were forced 
partially to sacrifice their artistic integrity in order to provide them- 
selves with the means of subsistence. A wave of ugliness swept over 
the country, threatening to destroy with its untamed violence all the 
old landmarks set up in the interests of order, harmony, and beauty. 
The spirit of annihilation was in the air. As, in the Reign of Terror, 
the fact of being noble in itself constituted a crime, so, in this age of 
new capital, the fact that a house, an object of use or ornament was old, 
caused it to be condemned, mutilated, or destroyed. The face of 
Nature herself was disfigured, without regret and ignorantly. In 
both town and country an indescribable architecture rose to flaunt its 
misshapen forms: creating sky-lines which refused to be brought into 
harmony with anything that had previously existed, or projecting con- 
fused, illogical masses of ill-used structural material against the divine 
green tranquillity of the trees. 

But the capitalistic age of American art was soon ended, owing to 



the very progressiveness, the strong vitality of the nation. If we take 
specific instances of this stage of American art, we shall find how 
quickly it was passed, and with how little pleasure it is remembered; 
how truly, in short, it may be compared with that awkward, unlovely 
age of the individual, which is placed between childhood and early 
maturity. For example, the Venetian palace set upon the terra-firma 
of the New York streets, at the death of its first owner, found no covet- 
ous private purchaser, and, after having furnished much food for dis- 
cussion as to the use to which it should be put, passed into the state of a 
clubhouse. So, also, the trivial Italian statues purchased at great 
sums by the "shoddy" millionaires, were not slow in descending from 
their pedestals in lu.xurious drawing-rooms, to mingle, on their proper 
level, with the frippery of the auction mart. Finally, the typical pic- 
tures of that time, have, in great measure, lost their charm for both 
buvers and spectators. The harem scenes and almehs, the combats of 
bulls and cocks, which once offered a frank testimony to the tastes of 
the rich men of whose private galleries they constituted the chief 
treasures, have disappeared we know not where, or else are so over- 
whelmed by the majority of worthier subjects as to be rendered quite 

From these superficial indications alone, in the absence of im- 
portant evidences by which we are daily met, we might conclude that 
the capitalistic age of American art has ended, and a new period be- 
gun. Logically, also, if our eyes were blinded to our surroundings, 
we might deduce the character of the stage now in progress, since his- 
tory repeats itself. The sequence of aristocratic and capitalistic could 
be followed by no other phase than that of democratic art. 

It becomes, therefore, the duty of every well-instructed, well- 
intentioned person to do his part toward developing this phase, and 
making it lasting; toward preventing its freedom from degenerating 
into license, excess and anarchy. The work is a great one, and can 
only be accomplished by constituted authorities. Yet to be thorough- 
ly successful, it must enlist the active interest and cooperation of every 
individual designed to be aided by it. 

As the highest examples as yet reached by the new phase of Ameri- 
can art, we have the sculptured monuments and the single statues, 
together with the great libraries and court houses, which, in recent 
years, have been erected in certain of our large cities. Then, as the 


most typical example of all, we may accept the Public Library of 
Boston, which justifies the legend set above its portal: "This is the 
light of all citizens." And to watch the continuous throng mounting 
and descending its steps is to become convinced of the true democracy 
of the place. There, in procession, pass the rich, elegant man of 
leisure, the worn scholar, the "American in process," as some one has 
pertinently called the poor Irishman and the Scandinavian, the He- 
brew and the Italian, who have escaped from the taxes, tyranny, or per- 
secution of their own governments, to install themselves in the unfav- 
ored quarters of the Puritan City. To each of these representative in- 
dividuals, bent upon his own errand, the magnificent art of the place 
speaks a specific language. The rich and cultured man demands it 
as his daily food. The scholar greets it as a solace offered to him in 
reward of his close, fatiguing labor. To the poor outcast it is synony- 
mous with his idea of shelter and comfort: a luxury from which he 
can not be deprived, and in which he has the right of participation to 
an equal degree with the millionaire. 

The same popular enjoyment of art may be observed in progress 
at the Art Museum, standing in the same city square, when Sunday, or 
a holiday, comes to release the masses from their ordinary toil. A 
similar pleasure, also, although it proceeds from a different source, is 
awakened in the poor man's mind by his participation in the benefits 
of those park systems which, in recent years, have been developed in 
many of our cities. But out of the enjoyment afforded by all these 
splendid and beautiful creations — the dignified structures with their 
imposing decorations, the extensive, costly parks with their carefully- 
tended trees and flowers, their water-pools, fountains, and statues — 
there arises a feeling quite other than that of pure aesthetic gratifica- 
tion, but one which is equally pleasurable and legitimate. It is a 
feeling akin to self-respect, and proceeds from the consideration paid 
to the desire for ownership resident in every human being, by the 
authorities who create these places of public instruction and recrea- 
tion. It is a sense of compensation which calms the resentment 
awakened in the mind of the poor by the sight of the rich man's walls 
and gratings, which from the very fact they enclose, guard and secrete, 
create in the excluded a sentiment of distrust and of wrongs to be 

But once placed in the possession of the advantages arising from 


equally distributed means of culture and rational amusement, the 
right-minded poor man acknowledges the efforts made by those 
directing the public affairs of his community, or country, to secure his 
comfort, advancement, and happiness. He ceases to reflect upon the 
inequality of human conditions and destinies; so transferring his men- 
tal energy — some portion of which before was wasted in sterile envy 
and hatred — to the realization of productive thoughts. 

It is, of course, much to be regretted that the right-minded poor 
man, even in our free country, has companions in estate, who do not 
share his conceptions of society, of right and of wrong. But the opin- 
ion may be ventured that the multiplication of parks, libraries, and 
museums, the destruction of the slum through the advancement of the 
cause of municipal art, would, in the end do more to correct criminals 
of the Czolgosch type, to prevent their insanity and crimes, and finally 
to eliminate their species, than all the statutes and electric chairs that 
can be devised by legislators and scientists: since the latter exemplary 
methods attack but surface manifestations, while the former correc- 
tional means strike at the very root of the evil. 

But still more radical measures than have yet been mentioned, 
must be undertaken for the diffusion of art — the producer of beauty, 
health and happiness — among the people. In other words, the chil- 
dren must be placed and guided in the right path, until they are strong 
and intelligent enough to direct themselves. But this does not mean 
that they should necessarily be made to follow courses in art-history 
adapted to their age and understanding; that they should invariably 
be taught to recognize by name certain renowned statues or pictures 
which have little significance, until the learner can supply for himself 
the background of racial life and of events, against which to study 
them. On the contrary, it does mean that they should be given by the 
most skilful instructors obtainable such notions of form, of color, of 
the conventions of artistic composition, as will constitute a fund of 
information upon which they may draw throughout their lives, as 
upon a well-placed capital ; never impairing the principal, yet always 
sure of a sufficiency with which to meet the demands of the moment. 
Such knowledge of form, color and the conventions of composition 
will enable its possessors to select and to arrange tastefully their per- 
sonal belongings, be these few or many. By this means, the children 
of the poor will be taught economy, while the children of the rich will 



be equally taught to avoid superfluity; since each object will then be 
made to pass the test of beauty and adaptability to purpose, and the 
care given to the thing in itself, as well as to its proper placing, will, in 
a remote sense, create the responsibility and the happiness of parent- 
hood. The same knowledge, implanting in its possessors sound prin- 
ciples of criticism, will give them a security of opinion in matters of 
everyday occurrence that will become a force making for stability of 
character. Finally, this so much to be desired training will gradually 
create a public of critics who shall act as disinterested censors of pub- 
lic works, able to detect false art, and to prevent dishonesty and fraud 
on the part of the authorities entrusted with their erection. 

To labor for the attainment of these ends is the task lying before 
our national school-system, and to judge from the ideas and work of 
the pupils, as also from the publicly expressed views of their instruct- 
ors, the realization of the plan is no impossible or remote Utopia; 
significant results having been attained already, with the promise of 
full accomplishment before many generations of school-children shall 
have passed. 

To ensure the lasting success of democratic art the same ideas must 
penetrate what we may name the American palace, and the city-slum, 
that they may work from opposite directions toward the same end. 
General knowledge of artistic principles must be diffused; a single 
standard of criticism must be established; the right of the people to 
beautiful parks, inspiring public buildings, well-planned streets, and 
healthful houses must be practically acknowledged. Something akin 
to the conditions which have twice before obtained in the history of 
civilization, must be reestablished: that is, the preponderance of the 
civic spirit. And this last must be maintained in the strictest modern 
sense. The city must not be allowed to absorb the rights of the indi- 
vidual by robbing the private house in its exigent demands for beauty 
and space; as it did in classic times, when the homes, excepting those 
of the very richest men, were bare and small, and the life of the bath- 
house, the public square and street was more agreeable than that of 
the residence; or yet, as the city again robbed the home in the Middle 
Ages ; this time depriving it not only of space, but also of light, air and 
cleanliness, that ecclesiastical and civic art might be given room in 
which to display their splendor, and wealth sufficient to insure it. 

The home as the greatest of social factors must then become a focus 



of art, but art in the new sense; each home, according to its resources, 
presenting to its occupants lessons and examples of beauty that shall 
render it a place of constant attractions, rather than one from which 
to escape as soon as it has provided the necessities of food and shelter. 
In this way, the poor home will no longer differ from the rich in kind, 
but only in degree. Taste will supply the place of luxury. Good 
form and color will pursue their educative work among the children ; 
a minimum of expense being sufficient to assure satisfying and beauti- 
ful results. The anecdotes of the artistic and moral effect of a single 
pot of flowers, or of a well-chosen picture, so familiar in Hull House 
or other "settlement" experiences, have a deep meaning which 
neither educators nor philanthropists can afford to ignore; but the 
spirit of reform must be more radical, and proceed by principle, rather 
than by palliative measures. The work of the home must precede 
that of the school; while the school-house must become a place of 
beauty, not second, but equal to the public museum and library; not 
necessarily representing the lavish expenditure of money, but elo- 
quently witnessing the broad intelligence, the care and the absolute 
honesty which presided over its planning and construction. Such 
schools and such homes are possible in every city, every village and 
every hamlet of our country. To assure them will require a strong 
continuous effort, but we shall not be isolated, since other nations have 
already engaged in the same generous work. In the proper embel- 
lishment and decoration of the school, France and Sweden have fore- 
stalled us, or, at least, have made their initial attempts. Let us briefly 
consider what has been accomplished in each of these countries. 

IN Paris, during the month of June of the current year, the general 
association of the educational press of France held an exposition, 

which, according to a recent writer in the review, Art et Decora- 
tion, gave the preliminary idea of a series of similar enterprises 
designed to advance the movement of "Art in the School." 

This writer, M. Paul Vitry, expresses the opinion that "although 
the artistic results attained by this exposition were neither so complete 
nor so perfect as might have been expected, the enterprise in itself was 
a most useful one, for the following well-defined reasons : first, to show 
the poverty of the available resources; second, to prepare the wav for 
future expositions; finally, to attract toward the question involved the 



attention of those who advocate the integral education of our pupils; 
as well as to awaken the interest of those who desire that ideas of art 
should penetrate the minds and fill the lives of the people." 

"In truth, what surer means are there of quickening, or of reform- 
ing the popular taste than thus to begin at the base? What more rapid 
way is there of suppressing those social scourges which exist in the love 
of false luxury, in the indifference to ugliness, and in pretentious fas- 
tidiousness, than to influence directly the minds of those who will be 
the men of to-morrow?" 

"The projectors of this enterprise very justly excluded from the 
exposition all question of the teaching of drawing; admitting only 
decoration and pictures adaptable to school purposes. Indeed, it is 
less essential for the child to learn to create, than to learn to feel; the 
important thing is to make him understand the beauty of things, to fill 
his mind with ideas of taste and harmony. The remainder will come 
later, if there be occasion for it." 

M. Vitry continues that there are two distinct divisions of educa- 
tional material adapted to use upon the walls of the school-room. 
The first of these divisions includes everything which seeks to teach 
specifically, to demonstrate some precise point. The material of this 
division must be presented in plain and persuasive form, showing 
sharply defined design, and, if possible, lively, harmonious color. But 
all this should be reserved for special use, constituting a kind of expo- 
sition in the school, and owing its effectiveness precisely to the fact that 
it is often renewed, since walls permanently hung with tables of the 
metric system, with reproductions of natural history specimens, or 
with excerpts from anti-alcoholic statistics would in time become 
hateful to the scholars whom they imprisoned. 

"To serve the purposes of permanent decoration, something must 
be chosen which shall rest the eyes and make the room cheerful. Be- 
side, the arrangement on the wall should be well coordinated, har- 
monizing with the dimensions of the free spaces and with the lines of 
the architecture, however modest it may be, without crowding, or 

"These mural pictures, which are usually impressions in colored 
lithography, can and should remain simple, even conventional in their 
methods of treatment; since the child, far from being repelled by con- 
ventionality, willingly accepts its principles. To recognize the truth 



of this statement, one has but to recall the primitive art of all peoples, 
and the observation of kindergartners that the child repeats in himself 
the history of the human race. It is plain that he is a primitive artist 
in his manner of rendering the appearances of the things about him, 
just as he understands these same things in an elementary way. He is 
satisfied by simple drawing and flat colors frankly applied." 

"The question may well be asked as to what subjects are appro- 
priate for these pictures, or fixed decorations. It may be answered 
by saying that, first of all, Nature should be offered to the eyes of the 
child. So, the pictures on the school-room walls will complete the 
lesson afforded by the windows opened upon the country. When fig- 
ures are introduced into the landscape, or when they form the chief 
features of the picture presented, they must show exactitude of line and 
simplicity of gesture: two qualities which impress the mind of the 
child and cause him to seize in the act the operation of the artist who, 
himself, so to speak, catches in flight a detail of life and fixes it in his 

"The lesson above all others to be impressed upon the minds of 
children is that art is nothing mysterious, exceptional and rare, which 
is to be confined in museums ; which is taught in schools hard of access, 
and sold, at high prices, in special shops; that to love art is not to have 
a few bibelots, more or less rare or strange upon the chimney-piece, 
and a few pictures in gold frames upon the walls." 

"On the contrary, children must be taught that art is something 
which may be realized in individual life, by first making it penetrate 
into school life. They must be convinced that cleanliness, order and 
logic are artistic qualities; that the simplest object can contain more 
of the art-spirit than many museum specimens. They must be taught 
that our ancestors translated their thoughts and expressed their needs 
in forms constituting the treasure of the art of the past, which com- 
mands our deep respect; but that we ought ourselves to be able to 
express our ideas in an original form, which shall be beautiful, because 
sincere and logical, and because it will be the very essence of our life." 
It is also from a French writer (M. Avenard, in Art et Decoration 
for October, 1904), that we gain an idea of Art in the School as it 
exists in Sweden. In that country the movement was initiated fifteen 
years since, when a rich merchant of Goteburg, the second city of the 
kingdom, commissioned the eminent painter Larrson to decorate the 



three stories of the principal staircase of a girls' school, with the his- 
tory of the Swedish woman from primitive times down to our own 

Following this initiative, other private individuals contributed to 
the mural decoration of other places of public instruction, and in 
1897, a national society was founded, in order to propagate the scheme 
upon a definite basis. Since that time, the movement has assumed 
great activity, and has extended to the gymnasia, in which, as well as 
in the primary schools, important and artistically beautiful frescoes 
have been executed, dealing with subjects — landscapes, national cus- 
toms and historical events — calculated to develop an intense love of 
country in the minds of the pupils who are brought into daily contact 
with them. This Society, therefore, although operating in a compar- 
atively poor country, has already, in its short existence, attained more 
ambitious results than have yet been reached in France. But com- 
parisons in this respect between the two countries are scarcely justified, 
since in France the movement is confined to the places of primary 
instruction, and the attempts at mural decoration to the most modest 

TO follow the initiative of France, Sweden, and other European 
countries in all that regards "art in the school," but, at the same 
time to pursue original methods, is the plain duty of American 
educators. It is difficult to conceive of the inspiring efTect which 
would be produced upon the pupils, if our school-rooms contained 
mural decorations appropriate to the subjects there taught. It is now 
frequent to find in our high schools so-called Greek, Latin, French 
and German rooms, which, devoted to the teaching of these languages, 
are decorated with photographs of the Acropolis, the Forum, the 
cathedrals of Paris, Amiens and Cologne, and with casts of noted 
statues. But while these objects have a most refining influence, and, 
in a measure, reproduce the desired "local color," they are not integral 
parts of the room ; they are often ill-adapted to the architecture, or the 
lack of it, which forms their background ; they are confusing by reason 
of their grouping, or their numbers. This want of harmony constant- 
ly to be detected by the eye of the artist, gradually and permanently 
affects the minds of the students, who at last characterize the decora- 
tions as tiresome, and cease to prize their educative worth. The oppo- 



site result is to be assured by mural decorations, which fill certain 
spaces determined by necessities of construction; which produce no 
"spots" upon the field of vision ; which, in some mysterious way, coun- 
terfeit life, or rather present its essence or principle, as can be done by 
no other form of art. 

No one will deny the tranquilizing efTect of the "Wood Sacred to 
the Muses" on the walls of the amphitheatre of the Sorbonne, which 
has no appearance of applied pigment, but seems rather to be an open- 
ing, an escape broken into another and more enchanting world. A 
similar effect — to judge from the illustration used by M. Avenard in 
his article already quoted — has evidently been attained by the idyllic 
landscape recently frescoed in the lecture-room of a gymnasium (uni- 
versity preparatory school) at Stockholm. 

We can imagine, with great pleasure, similar pictures appearing 
upon the interior walls of our own secondary schools, having as their 
first function to soothe the eye with their harmonies of line, composi- 
tion, and color; having also the mission to inspire enthusiasm in the 
subject which they present in condensed form. We can imagine, for 
example, the "Latin room" of a high school decorated with wall- 
scenes which should typify the pastoral poems of Virgil — the Eclogues 
and the Georgics — with, perhaps, a frieze formed of Roman letters 
spelling a quotation from Tennyson, who, in one of his finest lyrics, 
apostrophized Virgil as 

" Thou that singest tilth and woodland, 
Hive, and horse, and herd, 
All the charms of all the Muses, 
Often flowering in a lonely word ! " 
Or again, we might imagine otherwise the decorations of a room 
devoted to the same study: such as should appeal more directly to boy 
students. And here might be copied the mural painting of "Cicero 
denouncing Catiline in the Roman Senate," which ofifers so imposing 
an effect in the Chamber of the Italian Parliament. It is not too much 
to say that the figures in dramatic action, the vivid presentation of an 
epoch-making scene, would inspire the brilliant minds, awaken the 
dull, and make light the difficulties of a dead language by showing the 
constructions and words to be but ashes which conceal and conserve 
the living fire of the human spirit. 

But such schemes demand for their execution the maximum of 



skill, the background of a suitable and somewhat costly building, and 
an expenditure of money that is possible to be made only in a compara- 
tively restricted number of instances. 

On the other hand, following the French, rather than the Swedish 
precedent, it is easy, in all respects, to decorate, in a pleasing and 
adequate manner, the walls of the primary public school. A plan is, 
therefore, here presented as offering certain essentials which should 
not be disregarded. A set of three designs, intended to be executed 
in a single room, illustrates the primitive and necessary arts by pre- 
senting little scenes of activity, which can not fail to interest and amuse 
young children, as well as to prove instructive to them. 


Arranged in friezes, each one of which illustrates an art by show- 
ing its successive processes, these pictures will tend to produce con- 
secutive thought in the child, and to correct the natural impulse which 
he obeys in passing rapidly from object to object, gaining no ideas and 
fatiguing both himself and his elders. They will lead him to ask, on 
seeing a finished thing, whence it comes and for what use it is intended. 
Another point to be observed in the pictures is that only children are 
represented as pursuing the arts which are illustrated. Here, the 
substitution of adult figures would cause a great decrease in charm, 
since child attracts child almost as strongly as, in the animal world, 
species attracts species. Furthermore, the little workmen are clothed 
with a degree of picturesqueness which separates them from ordinary 
American children, and yet not so strikingly as to deflect the minds of 
the pupils from the work to the costume. At the same time, the hats 
and caps adapted to the kind of labor, and the little studies of feet in 
wooden shoes, are so various as to form a lesson in themselves. The 
primitive character, the conventions which one of the French writers 
previously quoted, cites as necessary to all art in the primary school. 




are here carefully preserved ; as are also balance and symmetry of com- 
position to a degree which recalls the classic friezes and those of their 
most successful modern imitator, Thorwaldsen. If the allusion be 
permitted in the case of things so modest, what we may call the 
Pompeian quality is further accentuated by such touches as the don- 
key at the mill, the rack of vases, the figures of the potter at his wheel, 
and the vase-decorator at his table; while the character of an old Ger- 
man wood-cut is given to the frieze of the wood-workers by the forest, 
the violence of the attitudes, and the absence of the small decorative 
elements, which appear in the two other compositions. Altogether it 
may be claimed that the effect of these friezes upon the eyes of children 
would be most beneficial as a lesson in art; that the impression of the 
clean-cut definite forms, of the strength indicated by the activity of 
the scenes, of the harmony produced by balance and symmetry, acting 
first upon the eye and following the avenue of sense, will quickly reach 
the brain, disposing it to work under the most agreeable conditions. 


Decorative scenes, such as the foregoing, are adapted to the pur- 
poses of the school, to service during such hours of children's lives as 
are devoted to laying the foundation of their mental capital. But 
mural pictures of another nature can be devised, which may serve an 
equally valuable, although a quite different end, in the education of 






children. In the latter class of pictures, the scenes illustrated should 
be made to appeal to the imagination, rather than to excite the reason- 
ing faculties ; since they are intended to decorate nurseries and sleeping 
rooms: places from which the seriousness of fact should be excluded, 
and where fancy should be allowed its short-lived power. 

A subject suitable for such treatment occurs in the legend of Ole 
Luk-Oie (Shut-Eye), the Danish dream-god, as told by Hans Ander- 
sen, and as it appears in many editions of that admirable story-teller's 
works. According to the popular tradition, the god, clad in a work- 
man's blouse, wearing a knitted cap, and carrying an umbrella under 
either arm, appears each night at the bedside of every child in Den- 
mark, acting a part similar to that played by our own "sand man." 
If the child has been good-humored and obedient throughout the day, 
his friend Ole, after having soothed him to sleep, raises above him an 
umbrella decorated with delightful and constantly renewed scenes, in 
which he may participate as an actor. If, on the contrary, he has done 
wrong during the day just ended, the child lies all night beneath the 
other whirling umbrella ; seeing nothing but a confused mass of unde- 
fined objects, going upon no interesting journeys, and deprived of all 
pleasant intercourse with the gift-bestowing Ole. 

The decorative scheme as here presented shows a continuous frieze, 
which can be equally well produced in several mediums, and may be 



adapted to rooms of different heights by simply varying the width of 
the band. As we have already noted, more detail and ornament are 
admissible here than in the school friezes, and the formal character of 
the latter, produced by balance and symmetry, is replaced in these 
pictures by freer and lighter treatment. 

The first division of the design is supposedly placed at the right of 
a door. It is Monday night, little Hjalmar the Dane, is already in his 
bed, and the dream-god has accomplished a miracle by turning the 
plants in the flower-pots into great trees, which stretch out their long 
arms and transform the room into a perfumed paradise of blossoms 
and fruit. 

On Tuesday night, Ole touches with his magic instrument a land- 
scape hanging on the wall of Hjalmar's bedroom. The picture be- 
comes the real country, and the boy, lifted into the frame, plays in the 
fields, runs to the river-bank, and embarks upon a boat drawn by 
swans, in which he makes a journey of marvelous adventure. 

On Wednesday night, Hjalmar, dressed in his holiday garments, 
sails away with Ole in a great and wonderful ship, bound for the warm 
countries. During the voyage, a long line of storks crosses the ship's 
course, and one of the birds, growing weary, falls upon the deck, 
where he remains to become the child's companion, telling him strange 
tales of Egypt and its river Nile, so beloved of all storks. 






On Thursday night, Ole brings Hjalmar an invitation to a mouse- 
wedding, to which he goes in state, having been first reduced to the 
height of a tin soldier of whom he wears the uniform. Seated in his 
mamma's thimble, he is drawn by a mouse-coachman through the 
crevices of the house-walls, meeting on his passage a long procession 
of mice who are also hastening to the marriage feast. 

On Friday night, Hjalmar is again bidden to a wedding: this time 
that of his sister's doll Bertha, who, in company with her beloved Her- 
mann, is pictured as promenading in the cabbage garden, in place of 
taking a bridal journey, after the ceremony performed by Ole Luk- 

On Saturday night, the dream-god spreads a Chinese umbrella 
over the boy, telling him that, upon this occasion, pictures must fill the 
place of stories, since he himself must polish the stars for Sunday: a 
process which he accomplishes by loosening them from the mosaic of 
the sky, rubbing them bright, and resetting them again in their own 
places. Overhearing these statements, Hjalmar's grandfather speaks 
from the portrait on the wall, to condemn the fanciful tale which has 
been substituted for useful facts, and Ole in anger, flies away with his 
umbrella. In this act he is pictured in the frieze, as skimming over 
the roofs and turrets of the city on his way to the stars. 



On Sunday night, Ole comes in graver mood to tell Hjalmar the 
story of his twin-brother, called by the same name, who is also a dream- 
god, differing from himself in that he comes but once to any child, and 
knows but two stories : the one so beautiful that it can not be expressed 
in any language of the world ; the other so fearful that the one to whom 
it is told faints with horror. Finally, Ole, the nightly visitor, lifts 
Hjalmar to the window, in order to show him his brother who is pass- 
ing on his fleet white horse, clothed in black garments shining with 
silver, and carrying in his arms and on the croup of his saddle a com- 
pany of children. 

This tale of the dream-god, so fitted to the childish understanding 
and so adaptable to decorative treatment, is here offered as a mere 
suggestion of what may be accomplished with small effort for the 
pleasure and instruction of children in the ordinary homes of our 



MERICA has produced two distinguished painters of 
her primitive race of men. The first of these, George 
Catlin, from the very fact of being first in his chosen 
field of labor, no less than by reason of his artistic skill 
and fidelity, will always occupy a unique position. The 
second, Mr. Elbridge Ayer Burbank, now at the full tide 
of his activity, a superior artist and a close observer, can not be defi- 
nitely judged, until time shall have placed his work in perspective. 

Some years ago, he was commissioned by Mr. Edward E. Ayer 
(the enthuisastic student of Americana whose archeological and eth- 
nological collections enrich the Field Museum, Chicago), to paint a 
portrait of Geronimo, the noted Apache warrior, who was then at 
Fort Sill, Oklahoma. 

The task was one which from its very difficulties, appealed to the 
artist, who, although somewhat experienced in portraiture, had never 
before attempted to paint an Indian. The chieftain, like all those of 
his race, was not at first willing to pose, and when once he had made 
this concession, offered other objections, such as those relating to the 
costume which had been chosen for him. But the artist gained his 
last point, and entered into the hunt for Geronimo's personality, as 
keenly as General Miles had pursued the man himself, when he was 
the desperate and dreaded guerilla chieftain. 

Mr. Burbank succeeded so well in rendering his difficult subject, 
that his commission was extended by Mr. Ayer, and he has since 
devoted himself to the portrayal of Indian types. I have several times 
found him pursuing his studies among the Indians of the Grand Can- 
yon region, the Hopis, the Navajos, and at the Snake Dance. I last 
met him at Yuma, where he had just finished some admirable sketches 
of individuals of the tribe which lends its name to that remarkable 

The secret of Mr. Burbank's success — setting aside his talent and 
skill as a painter — lies, I believe, in his enthusiasm for his subjects. 
To acquaint himself with all branches of his work, to assure perfect 
accuracy of statement, he has visited more than fifty dififerent tribes; 
painting on his journeys and always from life the portraits of nearly 
all the famous red men, including Chief Joseph, Red Cloud, Curley 
(General Custer's scout) , Kopeli, the chief snake priest of Walpi, and 
Wiki, the priest of the Antelope fraternity. 




Copyiighl 1904. by 
Guslar Stickler, Syracuse. N. Y 



Copyriebt 1904. br 
nufluv Sticklcy, 8yr«cu»e, N. Y. 


First using oil paints exclusively, Mr. Burbank has lately pro- 
duced excellent work in crayons, of which here, for the first time, he 
has permitted four fine characteristic heads to be reproduced. 

The first portrait is that of Ho-mo-vi, one of the prominent Indians 
at Sichumavi, on the east mesa of the Hopi villages. Ho-mo-vi was, 
for manv years, governor of the pueblo, and is a man of great determi- 
nation and strength, as well as of sweetness of character; all of which 
qualities have been rendered by the artist with accuracy and distinc- 

The second portrait presents the head of Shu-pe-la, the father of 
Kopeli and of Harry; the former, long the chief of the Snake Clan at 
Walpi, the latter, the successor to this high office. We have here a 
face denoting in its possessor firmness of purpose and great independ- 
ence, which are revealed in the tightly closed lips and the salient chin. 

The third head is that of A-a-wah, another Sichumavi Hopi. 
This warrior, many years since, lost one eye, in a struggle with mar- 
auding enemies, and to this loss he owes an aggressive, war-like air not 
usually characteristic of individuals of this "people of peace." The 
likeness of the drawing is perfect, and in studying it, as well as all other 
Indian portraits coming from the hand of Mr. Burbank, we experi- 
ence gratification at the thought that, through the power of art and 
character-reading, the shadow of these interesting primitive types will 
be reflected for the pleasure and instruction of those who shall come 
after us. 

The one female head here offered is the portrait of Po-et-sah of the 
Tewan village of Hano. It represents a fine type of the primitive 
wife and mother, revealing the indications of tenderness, mental 
power and fortitude. As I have many times seen and spoken with the 
subject, I can personally testify to the truthfulness of the portrayal, as 
I can also to the distinction of the original. 

The red races of America are fast perishing, and it is to be hoped 
that so sympathetic and successful a student of their lives, manners and 
customs as Mr. Burbank, will not allow himself to be lured back into 
civilization to take up a less important labor. May he continue and 
complete the work accomplished by Catlin for art and ethnology! 

G. W. J. 



,E have seen that ugliness may become a goad to drive us 
to beauty. The sight of slums and soot and smoke, 
of blasted forest and disemboweled mountain, may at 
last induce us to abjure the useful, unless it come hand 
in hand with the comely, and to refuse once for all to 
live in the midst of hideous surroundings. What 
other acceptable alternative can there be? We must either turn 
about, or go onward, for there is no "standstill" in human affairs. But 
what would going onward mean? I was talking the other day with a 
lady at her home, about a hundred miles from New York, and, speak- 
ing of the future of the neighborhood, she said : "I suppose by the time 
I die, the city will be out here." Are cities then actually to grow for- 
ever, until the whole world is one single town, with here and there a 
park to represent the country? Must every tree fall a victim to the 
woodman? Shall the whole earth be turned inside out in search of 
precious stones and metals? Are all our present tendencies to be 
carried out in their logical direction in arithmetical or geometrical 
progression? If we travel ten times as fast as our great-grandfathers, 
must our great-grandchildren travel ten times as fast as we do? Think 
for a moment what the admission of such a principle, even in a modi- 
fied and temperate form, would mean. This material development 
has its seamy side ; I would almost be inclined to say that it is all seamy 
side. It involves the pace that kills; and that means ever, more ner- 
vous prostration, more lunatics, more suicides. As cities grow bigger, 
asylums, hospitals, sanitariums, prisons, grow still more rapidly. Every 
acre of palaces entails its square miles of slums. The labor-saving 
machine is a beautiful thing in principle, but what is the goal ex- 
pressed in its very name, toward which, though it be in the nature of 
things unattainable, we are pressing hurriedly forward, — what, but a 
society of multi-millionaires and their lacqueys, served by innumer- 
able slaves of wood and iron, needing to look after them only an occa- 
sional foreman, whose brains are perpetually passing over into the 
machines, and whose numbers are forever dwindling toward the 
vanishing point? The working class would, in large part, gradually 
die off, and most of the remainder be absorbed into the ranks of 
flunkeys, contributing in some personal way to the ease, comfort and 



amusement of their lords. A world of belts and pulleys and wires 
and rails, studded with electric buttons for every conceivable purpose, 
and inhabited by two dreary races: the pamperers and the pampered. 
This is not a celestial picture, but it is the only star to which our wagon 
is hitched to-day. 

Given a world of machinery, with a small class of mechanics and 
factory hands on one side, and of unstinted luxury and its liveried 
attendants on the other, what can be done to beautify it? We see 
around us the beginnings of such a world and the ineffectual efforts to 
make it fairly habitable. Charity is unable to heal the sources of 
ugliness, and when it becomes a business and even municipalities hold 
out their hats for the alms of a library or a picture gallery, there is 
something sickening and degrading about it. Village Improvement 
Societies and Municipal Art Leagues can do little but stand aghast 
at the problems with which they are brought face to face. Mean- 
while, the natural and unconscious attempt to improve the looks of 
things shows itself in the separation of the different aspects of society. 
Our palaces draw together on Fifth Avenue, and our great corpora- 
tion buildings on Broadway; while the tenement houses drift to the 
outskirts of the golden region and spread out into unknown quarters. 
Luxury and drudgery fly apart by natural repulsion. The stately 
mansion rarely sights the factory, and would not signal it if it did. 
Society is polarizing itself as well as it can, and so we say that one-half 
of the world does not know how the other half lives. It is well that 
this is so, for it would be intolerable to group riches and poverty- 
beauty and ugliness — in too close proximity. If the residence of the 
railway king stood in his blighted freight yards, if his mines emptied 
their coal before his door, if his employees were huddled into rooker- 
ies across the way, if the families of his men, killed by accident without 
insurance, and discharged as superannuated at forty-five without pen- 
sion, gathered on his door-steps to beg their bread, what pleasure 
would there be in wealth, and where would beauty and art and archi- 
tecture find a foothold? So let us be thankful to Nature which tends 
to keep the rich by themselves, and the poor by themslves, and to 
separate the sheep from the goats! 


LEVY "S Translated from the French by Irene Sargent 

" New occasions teach new duties; 
Time makes ancient good uncouth; 
They must upward still, and onward, 
Who would keep abreast of Truth. 
Lo, before us, gleam our camp-fires! 
We ourselves must Pilgrims be, 
Launch our 'Mayflower', and steer boldly 
Through the desperate winter sea; 
Nor attempt the Future's portal 
With the Poet's blood-rusted key." 

"The Present Crisis."— J. R. Lowell. 

"New forces, new cravings, new aims, which had been silently gathering beneath the crust of 
re-action, burst suddenly into view." — Green's^"Short History of the English People," Chapter V. 

OLSTOY'S great romance, "The Resurrection," begins 
by these lines: "In vain some hundreds of thousands of 
men, confined within a narrow space, struggled to muti- 
late the corner of earth which they inhabited. In vain 
they crushed the soil beneath stones, so that nothing 
could germinate within its substance; in vain they up- 
rooted even to the smallest blade of grass; in vain they contaminated 
the air with petroleum and coal; in vain they drove away the animals 
and the birds. Spring, even in the city, was still a beautiful season. 
The sunlight streamed forth. The newly vivified grass began to grow, 
not only on the lawns of the boulevards, but between the paving-stones 
of the streets." 

Such is the brilliant and truthful picture of human cities, in which 
springtime, the joy of living, and the joy of Nature, have so much 
difficulty in making themselves felt.^ 

This picture of Tolstoy, vividly recalled by Professor Gide is, 
unhappily, exact. It is but too true that in our modern cities we have 
piled story upon story, until we have hidden the view of the sky. It is 
true also, that through the agency of the artificial life which we lead 
in great cities we see spring up about us, instead of the flowers of 
Nature, those flowers of evil which are called: prostitution, alcohol- 
ism, tuberculosis. And nothing will arrest the scourge, as long as the 
inhabitants of the rural districts, driven from their native soil by the 
lack of recreation, by the difficulties attendant upon material life, shall 
be attracted toward the cities, as larks are decoyed by mirrors. 

Where, then, shall we go, if neither our cities nor our rural dis- 
tricts longer offer us a refuge of peace? The answer is waiting. 

'Preface written by Professor Charles Gide, for the "Garden City," by Georges Benoit-Levy. 









We should seek refuge in rural cities, in garden cities, replies Mr. 
Ebenezer Howard, the propagator of this movement in England. 
By a figure of speech, he represents the city and the country as two 
magnets attracting to themselves men and noxious atoms; a third 
magnet, which is the Garden City, attracts everything good, and 
rejects everything evil. The floating, hesitating population, like a 



o '*<^* 




^v^ ^^S^RS-OS No Po^ 


^ Town-Country 4^ 





magnetized needle, will naturally be drawn toward it. Without any 
doubt, the time has come to construct cities adapted to our modern 
needs. It is as useless to seek to modify our old cities, constructed for 
former needs, as it would be to attempt to make new garments from 
the material of old ones. "Grant me, O Lord," cried Samuel, "a 
place in which I can build a city in the fields." It is from manufac- 
tories as nuclei that to-day centers of social life must develop. It is 
the task of industrial capitalists to create new cities, making them 



healthful and beautiful; consequently it is from these powerful indi- 
viduals that we must expect all our social betterments, which, I will 
state in passing, although the truth is well known, are indissolubly 
united with economic advances. 

The ideal city, therefore, would be one in which by means of ra- 
tional and prosperous production, there should arise a model of social 
life. This conception is no longer a chimera. Associations of garden 
cities exist the world over. Like distant lighthouses, which here and 
there, through tempests and darkness, guide the bewildered pilot 
across the world, the new garden cities glow with beauty and pros- 
perity, pointing the anxious traveler toward the way of happiness. 
For to-day these cities of a new type are rising at all points of the 
globe, and if, in my book, I have described them at length, I wish here, 
at least, to sum up my impressions of each one of them. 

As the movement began in England, we shall open our rapid re- 
view of garden cities by reference to that country. About five years 
since, Mr. Ebenezer Howard wrote a treatise entitled, "To-morrow," 
in which he set forth his conception of the ideal city. This work 
attained, not only a publishers' success, but, better still, it produced 
practical results. Persons of generous spirit, like Earl Grey, the 
Countess of Warwick, the Bishop of London, Messrs. Idris, Thomas- 
son, Rowntree and Lever, assisted in the formation of the Garden City 
Association of London, while the press enthusiastically favored the 
enterprise. Soon, a Pioneer Company was founded, in order to find 
means to execute, as quickly as possible, the plan formulated by Mr. 
Howard. This plan consisted simply in passing from theory to prac- 
tise by setting up the powerful magnet which should attract to itself 
the best among the vital forces of the country. 

At the end of long and difficult researches, Mr. Howard discov- 
ered the Promised Land. It is situated forty miles north from Lon- 
don, between Hitchin and Baldok. It has an area of 1520 hectares; 
the price being 3,750,000 francs, with the average price of the hectare 
[two and one-half acres) at 1500 francs, and the average price of the 
square metre at 25 centimes. The landscape is superb, and, from the 
economic point of view, the situation is altogether advantageous. The 
results — artistic and financial — are successful and fine. A stock com- 
pany, with a capital of 7,500,000 francs, was formed to advance the 
first funds. The principal stockholders of the First Garden City 



Company, Limited, are industrial capitalists, several of whom estab- 
lished themselves as residents in the new city. 

The act of purchase was celebrated October 8, 1903, and the new 
territory was christened by toasts expressed in words full of con- 
fidence. It was given the attractive name borne by the Company 
itself, and was thus called "Garden City." 

In the month of July, 1902, I returned to Garden City, where I 
found all the streets laid out; the narrowest of these being as wide as 
Broadway, New York. I found, furthermore, that all the magnifi- 
cent existing plantations had been preserved. Three hundred cot- 
tages of an average price of six thousand francs for construction, and 
of five to ten francs for weekly rental, are in process of building. Eight 
large firms have made application to install their factories, one of 
them being that of Mr. Idris, soda manufacturer. The city is in 
process of formation, and in rising, it creates the hope that, in all 
points, it will realize the conception of its founders. Of this concep- 
tion the following are the principal features: 

To avoid over-population, there shall not be more than thirty 
thousand inhabitants upon the fifteen hundred hectares, and, when the 
first Garden City shall be fully peopled, another one shall be founded 
in the vicinity. 

To avoid crowding the houses, one-tenth of the area shall be built 
upon, and the remainder shall be devoted to open spaces. 

To avoid confusion in construction, an exact plan shall be fol- 
lowed. At the center, there will be the parks, surrounded by the 
public buildings. Then, successively, will be placed the cottages, 
the shops, the warehouses: each quarter being separated by beautiful 
parks, playgrounds, and gardens. Outside the city, there will be the 
factories, and, completely surrounding Garden City, there will be a 
belt of fields, which shall isolate it from the contact of all other settle- 
ments. The example of Garden City, although scarcely finished, was 
contagious. Already in 1903 (third, Edward VII.), the Naval 
Works Act gave birth to appeals from the Honorable Sir John Leng 
and Claude Hay, who demanded of the Secretary of State for the 
Admiralty, Mr. Arnold Foster, why, taking advantage of the creation 
of the shipyards of St. Margaret's Hope, he did not construct a gar- 
den city, upon the immense site thus provided. Mr. Andrew Car- 
negie replied for the Admiralty. He established a corporation with 



a capital of $2,000,000, for the purpose of building a garden city in the 
forests of Pittencriefif and of Glen, near Dunfermline. There will be 
a cooperative hall, a plan of civic education, libraries, a vast park for 
boys and girls. The cottages will be separate; no two of them being 
alike. One house will be fitted up to serve as a model, "so that others 
may see how best to combine art and economy, cheapness and decora- 
tion." The President of the corporation is Professor Patrick Geddes 
(University of Dublin), and no better choice of a chief officer could 
have been made. 

It was also, in Scotland, in Invernesshire, that the Aluminum 
Company proposed to the Garden City Association that the latter 
should found a model village for a population of three thousand. 
There were to be five hundred charming cottages, of an average price 
of four thousand francs, and the site was to be fixed at Foyer's Falls. 
In a historical sketch of the movement in England, I should mention 
the unfortunate schemes of Robert Owen at New Lanark, of Quaker 
Richardson at Besbrook, of Titus Salt, at Saltaire, etc., etc. But I 
prefer to mention enterprises which now exist, and among the most 
prosperous which existed before the creation of Garden City, I must 
mention particularly Port Sunlight and Bournville. I shall call them 
specimens of garden cities, because they are in reduction what Gar- 
den City will be upon a large scale. Equally at Port Sunlight and at 
Bournville, the inhabitant may enjoy all the advantages of the city and 
of the country, without their respective inconveniences. At either 
place, for a moderate price, a home is obtainable which is not only 
healthful and cheap, but also agreeable and beautiful. Work at the 
manufactory is pleasant; indeed, it is a means of enjoyment rather 
than a task, in these palaces of labor. Everywhere, there are flowers, 
well aerated rooms, and, also, suitable salaries. As to life in general, 
in the rural city, it is equally developed in all respects. Let us take 
for an example Port Sunlight, where there exist associations to lower 
the price of living, prudential institutions, societies for the cultivation 
of sports and recreation. Nothing is forgotten, or neglected. Twenty 
years since Mr. H. W. Lever was a small grocer. To-day, he is the 
possessor of a fortune which certain persons believe to have been 
accumulated by manufacturing soap. This is an error. It was by 
creating good, honest, loyal assistants that he was able to produce soap 
under good conditions. But again. Port Sunlight is not a working- 



men's city. It is a garden city, accessible to all, of whatever fortune 
they may be, and all are sure of finding there a share of comfort and 
beauty, because it is really the port of sunlight.' 

The example of England was contagious, and I myself, appreciat- 
ing the great advantages afforded by the garden city, labored to de- 
velop this movement in France and in other countries of the continent. 
In Holland there has been founded the Garden City Association, which 
is at present directed by Mr. J. Bruyn, and at Blarikum an attempt in 
miniature will be made. In Belgium, the Belgian Garden City 
Association, whose presiding officer is M. Didier, editor of "Le Cot- 
tage," is in process of formation. Societies have been created to 
found the "New City" in Campine, and still another garden city in 
the Ardennes. 

In Sweden, there has been founded the Ostermalens Villa-Stadt. 

In Germany, we find "Eden City," near Berlin; the scheme of M. 
Pfeififer, near Stuttgart; finally, the Gartenstadt Gesellschaft, found- 
ed by M. Bernard Kamfifmayer, is actively diffusing the propaganda 
of the movement. 

In Switzerland, M. Henri Baudin, architect, is at present engaged 
in founding a Swiss Garden City Association, and the same gentleman 
has in mind other most interesting experiments, which, we hope that 
he may speedily realize. 

In Hungary, several attempts have been made, as at Munkas 
Otthon, Balassa-Syarmat and Miskolez. But of all these schemes, 
Rakoslizch is the most interesting. Further, in order to propagate 
the movement, a society bearing the name of Tusculanum, has been 
founded, under the leadership of M. Rocza Karoly. 

Finally, France, last, but not least, possesses its Garden City Asso- 
ciation. We have thought that our country, called by our ancestors, 
"The Garden of King Louis," should have, not only its gardens, but 
also its garden cities, its model cities. During the year of its exist- 
ence our Association has gathered an immense membership and has 
begun the execution of several important projects. Owing to the 
efforts of two of its honorary members, M. Maurice Lichtenberger 
and Emile Cheysson of the Institute, the Creosote Manufacturing 
Company is now constructing at Champagne, near Fontainebleau, 

' I lived for six months at Port Sunlight and Bournville, but, as I have not space in which to de- 
scribe their organization more at length, I can only refer the reader to my book, "The Garden City." 



upon the blooming banks of the Seine, a charming "model village" 
for a population of from four to five thousand. Our association has 
entered actively into the movement for preserving to the cities the 
the parks which constitute their most beautiful ornaments, and, 
five months since, we obtained an ordinance from the Municipal Coun- 
cil of Paris whereby it is forbidden to sell as building lots the finest 
part of the Bois de Boulogne called "Bagatelle." Finally, several 
projects for Garden Cities are on the way toward realization; one of 
them being near Paris, and the other in the South of France. Our 
president is M. d'Estournelles de Constant, deputy, and president of 
the parliamentary group of international arbitration. The name 
alone of this man indicates that we wish the new cities of social peace 
to be also the garden cities of international peace, creating among 
their members relations of courtesy. We must say, furthermore, that 
our association owes the efficacy of its action to the disinterested 
cooperation of eminent men like MM. Jules Siegfried, former minis- 
ter, Charles Lyon Caen, Cheysson, George Picot and Mabilleau, 
members of the Institute; Desmous, vice-president of the Senate; 
Georges Trouillot, minister of commerce, etc., etc.; that it is much 
indebted also to its vice-presidents: Professor Charles Gide, Andre 
Lichtenberger and Dr. Delbert. Under the auspices of such men as 
these we shall at least see new garden cities rise in France. 

I come finally to consider the movement as it manifests itself in 
the New World. I am now fulfilling a mission in the United States, 
and studying what has been attempted, if not in garden city schemes, 
at least in "model villages." I have visited Ludlow, Leclaire, Day- 
ton, East Aurora, and everywhere I have observed what resources 
exist in the United States for doing well, and perhaps for doing better. 
I do not wish to discuss what I have not personally seen ; but I believe 
that there are also interesting experiments at Wilmerding (Pa.), and 
at Pigeon Creek (Pittsburgh) ; as well as at Vandergrift (formerly 
Apollo) . I was very favorably impressed by what I saw at Ludlow, 
at the National Cash Register, at Dayton, Ohio, at Nelson Place (Le- 
claire), and I was filled with enthusiasm for the work which is being 
accomplished in the garden city at East Aurora, by Elbert Hubbard, 
whose words upon this subject should be made known everywhere: 
"We all take pleasure in our city, since here art is for all, beauty is for 
all, and these two divine blessings must be made as free as are the rays 



of sunlight. Each one of us absorbs as much of it as it is possible for 
him to do." 

In concluding, I may say that the garden city movement has pene- 
trated into the remote regions of Australia. As an outcome of this 
impulse, Adelaide City may be cited, and, further, the Colonial Gov- 
ernment has decided to create Bourbala,' the new federal capital, 
according to the conception of a garden city. Thus, throughout the 
world, there are constantly developing and expanding, like rose-buds, 
those garden cities, which are the centers of health, peace and happi- 

THEREFORE, in whatever way we may regard the movement, 
we are convinced that it is extending itself everywhere. In 
July, 1 904, the International Congress of Garden Cities was held 
in London, when the delegates of several foreign governments and of 
many successful enterprises were present to discuss the question in all 
its aspects. At this congress, America was worthily represented by 
Dr. Josiah Strong. 

During the spring of 1905, there will be held in Paris an Interna- 
tional Congress of Garden Cities, and, also, a congress of persons seek- 
ing "Social Welfare." These assemblies will be directed by the dis- 
tinguished men who are prominent in the Garden City Association of 
France. The American friends and propagators of the movement 
are cordially invited to participate in the discussions, and to describe 
to their associates of the old world what they have done for improving 
in their own country the general conditions of life; while the French- 
men interested in the same movement will offer them the earliest roses 
gathered in the garden cities of France; showing them, at the same 
time, according to the words of William Morris, "the magnificent 
constructions that we are creating throughout the country, in which 
a man may reveal all that he has within him: expressing his mind and 
his soul in the works of his hands." 

' The latter enterprise I have known only upon paper. I am ignorant of its actual state. 


D. C. 

N certain particulars the pottery now made in Korea resembles 
the products of past centuries, but there are many points of 
difference, and it therefore seems best to treat the subject in 
two divisions ; the one dealing with the forms introduced since 
the Japanese invasion of 1592- 1597; the other, embracing the 
more ancient wares of this much harassed little kingdom. 
A little more than twenty-five years ago, Korea was released from 
her long period of vassalage to Japan, and was at last recognized as 
an independent and sovereign nation. A few years later, Korea opened 
her ports to the United States, and, during 1883, numerous pieces of 
pottery were collected for the National Museum in Washington, the 
study of which has thrown a new light on the ancient keramic indus- 
try of Korea, and has also furnished valuable information regarding 
the kinds of pottery which have been made there in modern times. 

It is unfortunately true that the art of pottery-making in Korea 
has deteriorated, and, while the older forms may still serve as the basis 
of the modern products, the latter, from the artistic point of view, are, 
by no means, on an equal footing with the fine specimens of mortuary 
pottery obtained from ancient Korean tombs, or with the still more 
beautiful pieces which were probably regarded as too choice to be 
buried, and were thus preserved for the delight of future generations. 
The pottery in use in Korea, at the present time, may be divided into 
three classes. The first is of white, pale buff, or bluish porcelain, 
sometimes decorated in blue, and having a high glaze. Dishes, bowls, 
and bottles for table use, and wash-basins may be included under this 
head. Several excellent pieces are shown in Plate I. The second 
quality is a pale yellow ware, glazed, undecorated, and chiefly made 
up as bowls used by the middle class. The third kind, which is 
used by the poorer people, is made of dark brown, or reddish earth, 
glazed inside and outside. Objects of this class have no decoration 
exceptinga wavy line produced by wiping off the glaze, which permits 
the lighter under-surface to show through. In Plate III. are shown 
some pieces of this pottery. There is a globular bowl ( Jil-tang-quan) 
of dark red stoneware, glazed on the side which was subjected to the 
greatest heat. Next to it is a wine bottle of heavy glazed porcelain 







(Sul-biung), ornamented with the dragon in blue, and, in this connec- 
tion, it is important to note that the Korean potters were unable to 
impart to their white ware any color but blue, until the revival of color 
decoration, which occurred some twenty-five years ago. The objects 
in the lower line of this picture comprise what may be termed a Korean 
dinner service. They are all of a heavy porcelain covered with a 
patchy glaze of greenish hue. 

Korea has been described as a vast graveyard, with burial mounds 
and monuments of varying age and archeological interest constituting 
one of its most prominent landscape features. In some sections of the 
country, cemeteries occupy fully one-fourth as much space as that 
which is used for agricultural purposes. Isolated graves of persons 
of special prominence are also not uncommon, and these are generally 
surrounded by groves of evergreens, arranged in the shape of a horse- 
shoe, with a mound four or five feet high in the center. It is to these 
graves that we must turn for the best examples of the ancient Koreans' 
art in pottery. Here, from time immemorial, pottery had been placed 
with the bodies, in the belief that the spirits of the departed would 
have need of them. With the pottery are often found gilded rings of 
copper, bronze horse-trappings, objects of stone, including slate ar- 
row-heads, and daggers of slate, or shale, with the handle and blade in 
one piece. This is the famous mortuary pottery,of which several pieces 
are here reproduced ( Plate 11.) , and it may be regarded as typical of 
the most ancient productions of the country. There is a stone dish made 
of dark grey paste, and shaped like a shallow saucer, with a low foot; 
a wine bottle of light yellowish granular paste, with an opalescent 
coating showing yellow spots and dark brown pits ; and another one of 
heavy terra cotta ware, covered with vitreous, cracked enamel of a 
beautiful greenish-gray tint. Near the top of the body, which is 
jug-shaped, there is a small spout. This bottle is an obsolete form of 
about the twelfth century. Such specimens as these are of equal value 
with real porcelain, and are of special interest, because they are sug- 
gestive of the origin of the celebrated Japanese Satsuma ware. A 
specimen of ancient earthenware is seen in the wine cup and stand, 
at the left of the picture. These pieces are rudely glazed. The cup 
is shaped to represent a lotus. There are also several bowls of hard, 
opaque paste, covered with a vitreous, green crackled glaze. The 
one at the right end is of fine, white, hard-paste porcelain, and is orna- 



merited with the wave, or cloud, pattern on the inside. This effect is 
produced by scraping away the paste; the indentations being filled in 
with a thicker layer of glaze. This ware, by the way, came from the 
old potteries of Song-do, the ancient capital of Korea, and is exceed- 
ingly rare. Much of the early pottery of Korea was unglazed, while 
some was slightly glazed earthenware of archaic shapes. The pieces 
were either modeled by hand, patted into shape with an instrument 
for that purpose, or formed by the potter's wheel. 

Korea, it may be remembered, was the birth-place of the potter's 
wheel, which, as described by a recent explorer, consists of a circular 
table from two to three feet in diameter, and four to six inches thick, 
made of heavy wood so as to aid in giving impetus to it when revolving. 
In general appearance it is not very unlike a modeler's table. The 
wheel is operated directly by the foot, without the intervention of a 
treadle of any kind. The potter sits, squatting in front of the wheel, 
his bench on a level with it. With his left foot underneath him, he 
extends the right foot and strikes the side of the wheel with his bare 
sole, causing it to revolve. 

No special principle of decoration or system of symbols peculiar 
to Korean art has yet been worked out fully, although there are certain 
zrt-motifs which often occur on Korean wares. Chief among these 
is the wave-pattern, which resembles the effect produced by over- 
lapping the ends of feathers. The autumn leaf, floating on the stream, 
and the half-subrnerged flower also convey expressive sentiments in 
Korean art. Arabesque lines which break up the general decoration 
by means of flat fillets, or curved flutings, are among the more promi- 
nent forms of decoration. Such lines are composed of fruit, or flow- 
ers, especially the peony. The chrysanthemum design, too, is Korean, 
and so is the shark's tooth, which is used chiefly on vases where the 
sphere-shaped surface requires a broad base and a sharp slope to a 

In general, it may be said that a close examination of ancient 
Korean pottery discloses a variety of decorations, including the Swas- 
tika, the Buddhist cross, and others. It is probable that Persia and 
Arabia contributed to the high standard of art which was reached by 
the ancient inhabitants of the "Land of Morning Calm," and, in turn, 
it cannot be doubted that those countries derived a certain inspiration 
from the artists of Korea. 




AN a man always be relied upon to give a proper estimate 
of his own work? Ask Kipling why he threw 'The Re- 
cessional" into his waste basket. Ask Elbert Hubbard, 
why he put his "Message to Garcia" in his little maga- 
zinejasnot importantenough to deserve aseparate head- 
ing. Ask Joaquin Miller why he threw out the best 

stanza from his immortal "Columbus" as being an anti-climax. Ask 
David Starr Jordan why the book he regards as containing his chief 
life-work is known to but a mere handful of students of icthyology. 
Ask Major J. W. Powell, the one-armed hero of the Conquest of the 
Canyons of the Colorado River system, the organizer of the United 
States Bureau of Ethnology, and the Geological Survey, why he 
regarded two small books, that possibly not a score men have ever 
carefully read, as the real work of his life. 

Ask of the history of all time, and you will find in nearly every case 
that the artist, the writer, the poet, the sculptor can not be relied upon 
to give a true and lasting judgment upon his own work. 

Every preacher of power knows that the sermons which he judges 
as his best work were slighted by his audience. 

All this as a prelude to this sketch of the life and work of William 
Keith. For he says he does not take either himself or his work seri- 
ously. He says that it is sport to him. But I think he fails to estimate 
himself aright. Because he is a good workman ; because he has taught 
himself the tricks of the Great Master Artist, and finds intense enjoy- 
ment and passionate delight in his work, he says that he no longer takes 
it seriously, but does it simply for the enjoyment that he finds in it. 

That is not true, William Keith! Stand still, true artist, let me 
show you as you are, or at least as I see you. In the early days of your 
career, you worked, you agonized, in order to master the technique of 
your art, to compel your hands, brushes, paints, to obey your mind and 
reproduce the pictures of your fancy. Do you rememebr when you 
said to me : "Time was when I took everything seriously. I was about 
t\\'enty-five years old and I agonized about things: fretted and chafed 
continually and to no purpose." But was it nothing? We shall see. 
You toiled at the principles of your art, until you mastered them. You 
climbed the mountains, explored the canyons, sat for days in the for- 
ests, and studied individual trees, until the character of every growth 



you cared for was as well known to you as each detail of the flower 
becomes under the lens to the microscopist. You watched the trees at 
sunrise, at sunset, at midday with the sun high in the heavens ; in cloud, 
rain, and whirlwind. You pretended to sleep under them at night, 
when the darkness could be felt, or again when the moonlight lent new 
beauty to leaf, branch and bole, and cast enchantment all about you. 
You sat up and lighted your pipe to enjoy the splendor of it all and 
then let the fire in the weed die out; the delight of the smoker being 
lost in the ecstacy of seeing Nature in her most enchanting humor. 

You learned to know the mood of all the streams flowing from 
Shasta or the high Sierras. You studied them winter and summer 
until you understood their music. You learned the habits of every 
bird of California, of mountain, canyon, foothills, plain and seashore, 
from the egg to death, until there were no secrets for you concerning 
plumage, color, food, nests, eggs, and songs. The deer and antelope 
led you to their remotest haunts, for they looked deeply into your eyes, 
and knew that you were a harmless fellow-creature of God, akin to 
them. The badger, the coyote, the fox, the lynx, and the mountain 
lion all saw you and watched you for many an hour, when, ignorantly, 
you trespassed upon their most sacred preserves, but they soon recog- 
nized a friend, and the word was passed from Crater Lake to Table 
Mountain below the Boundary Line, that you were "one of us" and 
harmless. And then you wondered why the animals were never timid 
in your presence; you were astonished that they approached you to let 
you see and study them ; sometimes you boasted that they came to pose 
for you. And so they did, for they knew you. They instinctively 
came to help, as all Nature does and as all mankind would do, if love 
instead of selfishness ruled. 

Even the cinnamon, the black, and the grizzly merely raised their 
eyes, and whispered to their cubs: "He's one of our kind," as you 
passed with your palette, your brushes and canvas. And so they 
helped you. They could not write about it, or analyze it, but they 
knew that love is the most potent thing in the universe, and that from 
it springs helpfulness. So they made pathways through the under- 
brush for you, and showed you easy ways of fording turbulent streams, 
and led you over forbidding mountain sides. You were not aware of 
it, but that made no matter. They knew, and that was enough. 

There is scarcely a mountain in three-fourths of California, on 



From a painting by William Keith 



which you have not kept vigil for days at a time ; studying every detail 
of color, flower, rock, gorge, shadow, and sunshine. The mountains 
know even your voice. They know your trick of talking to yourself 
and of addressing your canvas as a lover talks to his lady. And occa- 
sionally, they have heard you swear at yourself, as your fingers have 
been slow to realize what your keen vision has conceived. 

And yet you say that you do not take yourself or your art seriously. 

Because you find a passionate delight in doing it, and it is sport for 
you ; because every moment that you spend with brushes, palette, paints 
and canvas is pure joy, does that alter the great fact that you are doing 
work for yourself, your country, and your God? You stand as an 
example: not only in the work that you accomplish, but also in the 
manner of doing it. For joy is the keynote of power and greatness, 
since it is the underlying principle of Nature's accomplishments. 
Your passion for joy is the proof that you are working rightly; that 
your work is healthful and strong. Therefore, I judge you a good 
man and good artist; one whose very love for labor makes that labor 
beneficent to the world. 

And this is the reason for presenting William Keith as the subject 
of the third in the series of the Simple Life Biographies to be pub- 
lished in The Craftsman. The life of this man is ruled by a single 
passion, and that passion is to perform work of an ennobling kind. 
Therefore, his life is simple, for complexity is but the evidence of 
vacillating purpose, of indolence, of self-indulgence. If to Keith and 
his kind the bare essentials of life are given, they are radiantly happy, 
because they contain within themselves all elements of mental content. 

Mr. Keith has a keen sense of the necessity of perfect devotion, as 
is evidenced by his words to me regarding his own development as an 
artist: "There are three stages in art development. First of all, a man 
feels the desire to paint something, without knowing how to accom- 
plish it. He lacks training, technical knowledge. Secondly, he 
studies to gain technical knowledge and training. Then, alas! nine 
times out of ten, he loses his desires and aspirations. He becomes a 
mere dauber of paint, in accordance with certain rules. But, let him 
be conscientious and true to himself, and the third stage will surely 
come. As his fingers obey his will, their action becomes at last almost 
automatic. He does good technical work easily, unconsciously. 
Then, he arrives at the third stage. This is the stage of joy in which 



he comes back to his first creative desires, with the possession of knowl- 
edge and training. Now, he can accomplish something. His hand 
and arm, colors, canvas, and brushes obey the dictates of his mind. 
Soon he is an artist, ready to realize the elusive visions of his former 

What was Keith's art training? Let me briefly recount it, ac- 
knowledging here my indebtedness to Charles Keeler for all the facts 
stated. When twelve years of age, he came to this country from his 
native Scotland, and became apprenticed to a wood-engraver. For 
some time he worked on Harper's Weekly and Monthly, and, in 1859, 
wandered to California; but the process called photo-engraving 
having been largely substituted for wood-engraving, he was unable to 
gain a livelihood. But, in his case, as elsewhere so often observed, 
what appeared to be a misfortune, became the occasion of his great 
success. His want of work led him to occupy his spare time in making 
water-color sketches, from which he was gradually led to the use of oil 
paints. In those early days, art critics in California were not numer- 
ous, or, at least, they had little influence; so, he found ready sales for 
his new work at increasing prices. He worked with the same dili- 
gence that he has ever since exhibited, and soon saved enough to enable 
him to study in Europe. For a year, he occupied himself in the sec- 
ond stage of his development ; compelling himself to the routine of the 
school, mastering methods, learning details of color, canvas, etc., 
which seemed to kill all creative power within him. How can a man 
create when hampered by the questions: Where? When? Why? No 
wonder that he felt his wings clipped. It was asking too much 
to expect him to possess the foresight that these hindrances were but 
giving him the power for greater accomplishment. For when a man 
knows his strength and power he may fly high with fearlessness. 

It is during the period of wing development, however, that the 
aspiring artist has his days of dark despair. "Agony," Keith called 
it, and so it doubtless was. But out of all agony that reaches upward, 
strength and power come. It is agony that crystallizes a man's desires 
and ambitions. It is not insincere to say that every man must suffer 
in a measure, as Christ suffered, before he can take his place among 
those who are the saviors of the race. And surely every true artist, poet, 
or stateman who works unselfishly for the good of humanity, even 
though following the impulse of his own individuality, should be 



accounted worthy to rank with the saviors of the race. Keith had his 
crucifixion agony, but rose triumphant in his new life. It was before 
he knew that he would rise, that his despair overwhelmed him. Hope 
and despair are close companions, and sometimes he lived near the 
one, sometimes near the other. 

Diisseldorf was the scene of these technical labors, from which city 
he returned to California in 1871. In 1893, he again went to Europe, 
this time becoming enamored of the Spanish painters. The work of 
Velasquez, that strong, powerful, imaginative colorist, made direct 
appeal to him, and the influences of the great Spaniard can readily be 
discerned in Keith's portraits painted since that time. But external 
influences cannot retard the development of a strong character. Keith 
resembles no one, and his work, therefore, is strikingly original. 

Although it is too subtile for description, the absence of personality 
in any picture is immediately perceived. Without it, there is the 
sensation of looking upon the beautiful form and features of a per- 
son, whose mind and soul are a blank. So, it is not easy to describe 
Keith's work. Reproductions in black lose the rich and powerful 
colorings of which he is a master, but they lose more : they do not show 
the passion and power of the man behind the picture. If a picture be 
conceived within the mind, intelligence alone can read its meaning; 
but if soul be put into it, spirit alone can read it. For the sentence is 
as true now as when first written: "Things of the Spirit can alone be 
discerned by the Spirit." 

And there are times when Keith himself paints better than he 
knows; his work reveals things that he never dreamed of. It is that 
unconscious thought above the will of the artist which, after all, is the 
best part of him. Do you remember what Ralph Waldo Emerson 
says on this point? It is worth repeating, as, although true to trite- 
ness, men generally forget it. "The poets related that stone walls, and 
iron swords, and leathern thongs had an occult sympathy with the 
wrongs of their owners ; that the belt which Ajax gave Hector dragged 
the Trojan hero over the field at the wheels of the car of Achilles, and 
the sword which Hector gave Ajax was that on whose point Ajax fell. 
They recorded that when the Thracians erected a statue to Theogenes, 
a victor in the games, one of his rivals, went to it by night and endea- 
vored to throw it down by repeated blows, until, at last, he moved it 
from its pedestal, and was crushed to death beneath its fall." 



And now comes the important lesson, thus told : "This voice of 
fable has in it something divine. It came from thought above 
the will of the writer. That is the best part of each writer which 
has nothing private in it; that is the best part of each which he 
does not know; that which flowed out of his constitution, and not from 
his too-active invention." Emerson's lesson is clear. He shows that 
above the writer's invention in the story is the unconscious recognition 
of a divine principle of compensation; a just rendering to every man 
according to his works, and that in these works themselves will be 
found clearly stamped that real self which reveals the extent of merit 
or demerit. 

I believe Keith largely recognizes this. For one day, when talking 
on the subject, he exclaimed : "Do you know that I am a fatalist? Man 
universal is one. Man individual is only a part of the great man uni- 
versal. Each is a tack, a bolt, a wheel, a cog, a lever, a frame, a some- 
thing in the great machine. Sometimes, I go as far as to feel that no 
responsibility attaches to any individual man; that he deserves no 
credit for what he does ; that he should sufTer no blame. I know this 
is not a working hypothesis, but, all the same, there are times when I 
think that I believe it. Observe, I do not say that I do believe it, but 
sometimes I think that I do." 

"I came to this philosophy through my work. Now look at that," 
pointing to a large painting of Mt. Tamalpais (reproduced on page 
301 ) which he had just painted : "That is merely a question of canvas, 
paints, subject, and training. I can paint that kind of thing any time 
and all the time. It is a good painting ; as fine a piece of work as I know 
how to do from one point of view. But for the production of such 
paintings, nothing else is needed than the four things I have mentioned. 
But, at other times, I stand before my canvas and a certain indefinable 
mood comes over me — no, takes possession of me. I know not whence 
it comes, or what it is, but it seizes me and — why, look at that !" — point- 
ing to an exquisite scheme of subdued color in live oaks and sycamores : 
"I painted that, one morning, in two hours' time. Think of it! in two 
hours — and you know I'm near sighted. The unity of a picture is the 
last thing that comes to me. I can only see an inch or two at a time as 
I paint, and yet I painted that thing and finished it in two hours. I 
could just as well have painted it with my eyes shut. I was no more 
responsible for it than I am for the war between Japan and Russia. 



It came to me with what I call lightning-like rapidity of thought — 
some persons call it inspiration — I don't; for it has required years of 
training to gain it. But, all the same, the thought comes like a flash 
and I accept it, or it accepts me. The picture is painted. And from 
such things I get my fatalistic ideas. Will has nothing to do with it. 
The man is a mere instrument. 

"People talk about geniuses, and they say that if geniuses were only 
workers, if they were not so wretchedly indolent, how much magnifi- 
cent work they could accomplish ! Indolent they are not. They have 
nothing to do with it. These flashes don't come all the time. And 
when they do come, it is not as the result of any exercise of will on their 
part. At such times, the man is a mere instrument, and acts involun- 

Yes, in other words, the individual man is merely working out his 
part in the great scheme of work of the man universal. There is some- 
thing above his work of which he is not conscious, something which 
comes from his very make-up, and which is the best part of himself. 
It is this revelation of the man in his work that marks Keith as a 
master artist. 

What true artist is there who is not a poet? I shall never forget 
when Keith pointed to a beautiful Japanese bowl which he had just 
purchased, and said: "Do you see that? That's my latest treasure. 
Listen!" And he took up a leather-covered striker with which he 
tapped the bowl upon the edge. "Listen to that! Did you ever hear 
its like? Fine, isn't it? I can see pictures in that." And surely, one 
might see anything in it. The sound scaled the heights to the clouds 
and descended to the foundations of things. As I lay on the carpet 
with my ear to the edge, I could hear the deepest thunder, the roar of 
the sea, the voices of the flowers, the birds and the stars. Only those 
who have listened to the boom of a great bell close by can conceive 
what this sound resembled. Yet it was the tone of the bell ethereali- 
ized; its power with an added gentleness, as of a powerful man stand- 
ing in his strength, with the spirit of a maiden or young child by his 
side. Imagine man and maiden in one, each as distinct as the other, 
as clear, as real, as vivid! So, there was a double quality in the sound 
of the bowl. Keith's eyes lighted up and moistened, and one could 
see that his whole soul was awakened, as the sounds rolled and echoed 
and re-rolled and re-echoed throughout the room. 



"Look at this!" he said, as he took a key and then a knife, and held 
them to the edge of the bowl, that I might see the vibrations; for each 
article danced a speedy measure, as it touched the palpitating rim of 
the sounding mass. "Isn't it wonderful? Now I want to paint! 
That thing always makes me see pictures and hear songs. It reminds 
me of Tuolumne Meadows, up in the Sierras. I've heard every sound 
of Nature there. Songs in the night, bands, orchestras, oratorios, 
sweet symphonies, crashing choruses, everything, even bagpipes. And 
I could recognize distinct songs, distant strains of music ; of course, not 
the whole piece, but enough to know it certainly. That's where music 
comes from. Everything has its origin in Nature." 

Keith is indeed a poet, true, pure, simple; a poet of thought, of 
mood, of emotion, of sentiment; one who writes with brush and paint, 
rather than with pen and ink. But he who is a poet can read rhymes, 
and blank verse, and sonnets, and lyrics and epics in his canvases, and 
if he be mystic as well as poet, he can read therein revelations and 
dreams and exstasies and the most subtile spirit-language. 

His "Upland Pastures," reproduced on page 302, is one of his more 
quiet color-poems. Even a child can read it. Here are the rich, 
upland meadows, into which the shepherd has led his flock which 
feeds in contentment and peace. One feels the soul of Pippa as he 
looks : 

" The year's at the Spring, 
The day's at the morn, 
Morning's at seven; 
The hill-side's dew-pearled; 
The lark's on the wing; 
The snail's on the thorn; 
God's in his Heaven — 
All's right with the world." 

And is it not good for men to have such lessons painted for them 
as well as written, spoken and sung? It is by no means necessary that 
the bird shall know what efifect its song has upon others in order to 
render the song of value. The thing of importance is that it does 
have efifect. 

Browning's "Pippa Passes," from which I have just quoted, con- 
tains a perfect illustration of the point which I am trying to make;, 
viz.: that influences emanate from persons who are perfectly uncon- 
scious of them. Pippa, the sweet Lombard peasant girl, sings her 
songs, as unconsciously as a nightingale. Yet the ribald jester, the 



passionate criminals, and others are rebuked, taught, restrained, and 
even converted to better ways by the simple outbursts of her overflow- 
ing heart. So with Keith in his painting. It is not essential that he 
should know its power over the hearts of men for that power to be 
exercised. The question to be asked is not: "Does Keith know?" but 
"Is the power there?" And the fact that the power is felt by artist 
and layman alike, demonstrates the possession by Keith of these pro- 
phetic and ennobling qualities. 

Fra Lippo Lippi painted "Saints! and saints and saints," until he 
was sick to death of them. Keith paints trees, and trees, and trees, and 
then more trees, until every human being who sees them, learns un- 
consciously, if not voluntarily, to love trees more than ever he did 
before. And no one can love trees without being better, without hav- 
ing some of the gross materialism of his life washed away by the 
heavenly dew which descends upon all trees. So Keith is preacher, 
as well as artist, philosopher and poet. But more than all he is a man ; 
a man who lives the simple life. All who know him recognize this 
fact. He has the child-heart; and greater praise can no man have 
than this. To be simple as a child is to be very near the Kingdom of 
Heaven. The first thing one remarks about him is his simplicity, 
his directness. You can never misunderstand him. There is no 
pretense, no assumed dignity. Not a word of studio parlance. 
Nothing but simple, direct lay English, that any one can understand. 
His simplicity and directness of manner is by some persons regarded 
as unnecessary brusqueness. But if all men were to be reduced to 
superlative refinement, what would be the future of the human 
family? We need more sturdiness, more strength, more directness, 
instead of less, and if there were a higher appreciation of what life 
means to a man who has real work to do, and less punctilious care for 
pett}' and hyper-acute feelings, there would be fewer complaints of 
rudeness, brusqueness and the like. 

Among artists, even among such as recognize Keith as their master 
and leader, he is personally little known. The reason is clear. He 
has no time for amusement or recreation that is not directly connected 
with his life interests. He is no gloomy misanthrope, no recluse over- 
shadowed by a sense of his own importance. He is honestly, genuine- 
ly human but busy, so busy that the usual recreations of the ordinary 
man have no attraction for him. 



[IITH more than a semblance of justice, it may be con- 
tended that beauty and ughness are relative terms; their 
definition differing with stages of civilization, among 
races of equal culture at the same period, and even among 
individuals of the same class. But admitting these state- 
ments to be partial truths, the subject is still open to dis- 
cussion. The idea of beauty seeks satisfaction among all peoples, as 
soon as the first physical necessities are satisfied. The savage crudely 
adorns his person, his weapons and his utensils. The barbarous man 
follows, better able to express himself artistically, because better con- 
nection exists between his brain and his hand; because, also, his own 
impressions of the world about him are more precise and mature. 
His needs are comparatively few. The materials ready at his hand 
are restricted in number. He has no artificial wants. But with his 
advancement from the savage state, his desire for beauty in his belong- 
ings and surroundings has kept pace. The objects which he creates 
are too near the period of their origin to disguise their structural qual- 
ities. They are ornamented in a way which excites no comment; 
which appears natural and fitting, because it is adapted to the thing 
and the substance on which it is wrought; because it has not suffered 
and lost in its migrations from article to article, and its transference 
from medium to medium. The barbarian finallv arrives at civiliza- 
tion. Primitive passions weaken and self-indulgence develops with 
alarming rapidity. The dwelling reflects the character of its inmate. 
Superfluity spreads everywhere like a noxious parasite to sap, blight 
and drain the vitality upon which it feeds. But after the passage of 
much time, the parasitic growth is uprooted and cast away, as royalty 
and nobility were thrown down in the "terrible year" of France. 
Revolution is as sure in the world of art as in the world of politics. It 
is now in progress, and it will end by setting up for intelligent worship 
the real "Goddess of Reason." The spiral line is the line of advance, 
and art is turning backward upon itself: as the French say, "recoiling 
the better to spring forward." It is returning to the old frankness of 
expression, the primitive emphasis upon structure, the natural adap- 
tation of ornament to material ; returning not to the old point of depar- 
ture, but to one corresponding to it on a higher plane of progress. 







A RECENT writer has observed that art does not consist in having 
a few objects of ornament upon the chimney piece and a few 
pictures in gold frames upon the walls ; that it resides rather in a 
general obedience to the laws of harmony. To create such conditions 
is the object of the municipal art movement now in progress through- 
out our country. The movement should be extended from great to 
small things and to all places where the people congregate. As a step 
in this direction a cashier's desk, and cigar stand is here illustrated from 
one existing in the new department store of McCreery & Company, 
Pittsburgh. In this piece the plainness of the constructive lines is 
happily relieved by the beauty of the material, which is hazelwood 
chemically treated, the introduction of leaded glass and the effect of 
the paneling. 


It is not now the moment to discuss at length structure and deco- 
ration; for upon these subjects I have several times expressed myself, 
as in an article entitled "The Simple Structural Style in Cabinet- 
Making," published in the "House Beautiful" for December, 1903, 
and in "A Plea for a Democratic Art," printed in the "Craftsman" 
for October of the current year. I have but to state simply, without 
emphasis or rhetoric, certain facts, the knowledge of which I have 
acquired in my business and technical career; then, as a more con- 
vincing proof of my statements than can be formulated in words, to 
present a short series of coupled schemes, begging "the friendly 
reader" to free himself from old prejudices and to seek beauty in 

In treating of the appointments and decoration of the home, 
whether its place be a spacious house, or a small apartment, I would 
first inveigh against so-called fashion: the word itself should be ban- 
ished from the dictionary, and the idea which it represents should be 
forgotten. Such objects as are structurally good and fitting to the 
place for which they are intended, should alone be admitted to the 
daily companionship of thinking people. From such intimacy should 
be excluded every piece which does not, figuratively, earn its living: 
that is, render a real and constant service to the occupants of the home. 
A thing to buy should be a thing to have and to hold, to love and to 
cherish. This value our forefathers of the Colonial and early Federal 
periods understood, and this we ignore. Their lives being subject to 
less change than ours, they had consequently greater affection for their 
surroundings. They did not acquire an object one day to grow weary 
of it on the morrow. Theirs was not, in any sense, an age of fickleness 
and divorce. Then, the makers of household belongings, in common 
with the members of all other crafts, callings and professions, labored 
strenuously to produce good work, which remains good and stable to 
this day, whether it appears in the Constitution of the United States, 
or yet in a chest, or chair, once adorning, with its quiet dignity, "the 
keeping room" of a New England farmer. 

As in the moral world evil is self-destructive, so it is with the visible 
products of man's activity. Things which are not true artistically can 
not have a long existence, and fashion is at once their tyrant and their 
slave. She is fickle, but they have no quality of permanence. Over 
the good, in the useful, as well as in the fine arts, fashion has no control; 



ruling but the imperfect, the unworthy, the temporary. In the ar- 
rangement of a home, Nature, culture and common sense should sup- 
ply the guiding principles, and the passing desire of the hour should 
be disregarded, as it will always lead astray. The several parts to be 
assumed by the three monitors may be assigned as follows: Nature 
will ofifer unfailing suggestions as to the color most wholesome and 
agreeable to the eye; culture will discard vulgarity and display; com- 
mon sense will decide between the useful and the useless: always 
rejecting that which, too fine for daily use, will remain an alien ele- 
ment in the home; rigidly examining all ornament as if it were a 
suitor for entrance to the family circle; questioning every object eli- 
gible to admission, lest after acquiring it, the owner should raise his 
standard of taste and the thing acquired become hateful to him. 

The question of the material home, its appointments and decora- 
tion, has, I am assured, a different and more vital importance than 
many persons are willing to grant it. Yet I feel that I am not alone, 
either in acknowledging the significance of the question, or yet in the 
possession of my views regarding the simplicity in structure and orna- 
ment which I advocate. I remember them to have been expressed in 
substance, in a convincing sermon upon art, delivered in the Church 
of the Advent, Boston, by the late Bishop Brooks, long before the Arts 
and Crafts Movement was instituted in America. As the years pro- 
ceed, I grow more and more earnest in my purpose; making strenuous 
effort to discover at whose door lie the capital sins committed in our 
country, under the name of household art, and speculating as to the 
best remedial measures to be employed against them. 

It is plain that the existing evils are due to that hateful tyrant. 
Fashion, already discussed. I further believe that two opposite 
parties are responsible for them: that is, the public, and the producers 
of so-called household art — the cabinet makers, upholsterers, and in- 
terior decorators. As I see imitation spreading through all classes 
and sub-divisions of American society, I am convinced that "envy is 
the vice of republics." I realize the strain exerted by the people as a 
whole, under a false conception of society, and the appalling waste of 
energy, which, being turned in the natural direction, would produce 
morality, contentment, culture and good art. Indeed, so deep are my 
convictions, so earnest my desire for a change of ideals, that, as I pass 
in the streets, the raised curtain of an apartment house, displaying gilt 



and glitter, silk cushions, and imitations of European porcelains, will 
depress, or anger me for hours. But often when I protest against such 
extravagance, and advocate simplicity, I am met by the answer that 
there are no correctional means possible; that the existing conditions 
produce commercial activity; that they are signs of progress and must 
be accepted in submission. 

At such times, I turn from those who make these false efforts to be 
fine to the producers of the false finery, in order to discover serious 
fault existing also upon their side. It may, in truth, be urged that they 
are simply fulfilling the recognized laws of business by supplying the 
public demand. But, I argue, are they not involved in this scheme of 
social falsification quite otherwise than as accessories? They, as ex- 
perts, know that under this system of imitation by which copies of 
priceless, unique objects are reproduced in different degrees of bad- 
ness, honesty of material, structure and labor are impossible. So, 
yielding inevitably to the temptation to employ the cheapest of these 
commodities which it is possible to obtain, they go farther, since "it is 
only the first step that counts." By thus substituting the false for the 
genuine, they not only profit in the first instance, but they prepare the 
way for future and richer gains. Their necessarily cheap materials, 
their hasty methods of structure and fabrication doom their products 
to early destruction, and others are needed to supply their place. 
True it is that the system of substitution of the false and cheap for the 
genuine is so extended as to excite no comment from those who are able 
to discover it. But on account of this fact it is none the less detri- 
mental in its workings. It tends to confirm those who are its ignorant 
victims in their lack of judgment and appreciation; it creates a desire 
for change, and a disrespect for the belongings of the home in those 
who witness the deterioration of the articles which they have so coveted 
before their purchase, but which, once acquired, fade and tarnish and 
fall to ruin before their eyes. Under this system, there can be no ad- 
vance in culture, except such as comes negatively : that is, by witnessing 
the evil results of pretense and falsification in objects intended for use 
and embellishment. But the worst results of the system reside in its 
moral effects, in its tendency to produce a sense of dissatisfaction, 
which transfers itself from the objects fulfilling the service of the home 
to the home itself; causing it to be regarded as a temporary place of 
convenience, rather than as a fixed point, about which the interests of 
life revolve. 


The fault of the producers — even of the best of them — is gravely 
increased by their frequency in changing their designs: the large 
cabinet-makers making this their custom twice each year. As a result, 
even the newest and most "stylish" pieces acquired by the private 
buyer begin, from the moment of their purchase, to lose their value: 
the very opposite of what occurred in the days of "old mahogany," 
when cabinet-making followed the laws of structure; when "style" 
justified its existence, and having done this once for all, remained 
stable; when the material, acknowledging the care of its keeper, grew 
more beautiful with age and use. 

Another fault for which the owner of the home may be taxed with 
only seeming justice is the diversity of style in the objects of cabinet- 
making selected by him to furnish a single room. The effects which 
he strives to gain are missed, and the result is a chaos in which the ele- 
ments quarrel with that obstinacy which is the peculiar property of 
inanimate things. But the responsibility for these unhappy results lies 
rather with the producer than with the purchaser, who must accept, 
instead of imposing conditions. The work of producing is so special- 
ized and divided, that in the case of a dining room, the furnishings in 
wood must come from as many different sources as there are kinds of 
articles: the chairs representing one manufacturer, the table another, 
and so on through the pieces. So produced, it is unavoidable that 
they are inharmonious when assembled ; offering no more unity than is 
to be found in the motley throng of the street, each one having, like any 
individual of that throng, the air of being bent upon its own errand. 
This state of things prevents our cabinet-making from finding a free 
market in England, where conditions better than our own prevail, as 
would naturally be expected in the country which formed the scene 
for the labors of William Morris, who "transformed the look of half 
the houses of London, and substituted beauty for ugliness all over the 

BUT I might continue my argument for page upon page, since 
points are inexhaustible. I shall, therefore, pass on to present 
my practical schemes, beginning with two groups, consisting 
each of two coupled examples, one of which shows the first state of a 
room, and the other a rearrangement of the same room which may be 
effected with comparatively small difficulty and expenditure. 



The first scheme (Sketch A. I.) presents, in its original state of sin, 
a pell-mell of misapprehensions of the historic styles; the cabinet- 
making represented being drawn from the best examples of their class 
which were exhibited at St. Louis. It is needless here to dwell upon 
the grotesqueness occasioned by the confusion and debasement of styles 
present in this assemblage, which resembles nothing so much as a 
masked costume ball. 

In Sketch A. II., the room reappears simplified as to its movables 
and decoration; the only structural change introduced being one 
easily accomplished in the chimney piece. The color-scheme is now 
built upon soft greens and delicate yellows, with here and there a note 
of greater prominence enriching the harmony. The walls, in their 
new state, ofifer a soft tone of olive-green; thus forming a background 
imitated from Nature, who clothes the trees and the earth in green, that 
they may keep silence while human beings think and act. The wall 
near the top shows a stenciled motif, executed in a deeper tone of green 
combined with corn-yellow. Above this, runs a landscape frieze, 
which repeats the green of the walls, with corn-color in the water-line, 
and, in other details, touches of plum and russet-brown. The mantel 
further emphasizes the green basis of the scheme by its tiling, into 
which plum effects are also introduced. The former furniture, with 
its tortured anatomy, is replaced by pieces of simple construction; the 
seats and cushions being of sheepskin, or canvas, in cool russet-brown, 
without suggestion of red. The curtains are of basket-weave linen of 
natural color, with a border line of applique in green and yellow; 
while the rug sums up the elements of the color-scheme by showing 
russet and light tans, with subdued yellows and greens. Finally, a 
few focal points are created by the copper-lamp, with its glass shade 
of daffodil and green, and the candlesticks and plaque on the chimney 

The second group of two plates presents, in Sketch B. I., a combi- 
nation of gilt and glitter which can be imagined, even though it be 
shadowed forth in black and white. Reconstructed, the scheme ap- 
pears, as in the first case, with only slight architectural modification: 
this time due to the change made in the central w^indow of the bay, and 
the introduction of a seat beneath it. The walls are now covered with 
a warm-gray paper, carrying a suggestion of old blue. A stenciled 
frieze of the same, introducing notes of orange and rich green, with 



deep blue in the small lower motif, runs above a rail placed on a line 
with the window tops. The furniture is of mahogany; the rug shows 
a gray-green ground with a border repeating the colors of the frieze; 
while the curtains of the bay are of pale green Shanghai silk, with 
yellow reflections in the weave, and a woven band of rich old gold at 
the bottom. Clear greens and yellows appear in the leaded glass, and 
warm shades of tan in the window seat; the entire bay being intended 
to contrast in brightness with the remainder of the room, which is 
purposely left subdued. The ugly chandelier of the first state is 
replaced by low-hanging copper lanterns, and this metal is repeated 
in a lamp and a plaque; another decorative detail being added in 
vases of light yellow and deep blue. 

Sketch C shows a Colonial scheme, suggesting the calm and quiet, 
which we associate with the idea of the home of that period. It is 
almost needless to say that the woodwork is white, and the fireplace 
lined with ordinary brick; or again, that the pieces of cabinet-making 
represented are easily obtainable. The colors here employed are 
blue, gray and white, all of which appear in the wall paper; blue and 
white being repeated in the "rag" rug, and again blue in the poplin of 
the "Sleepy Hollow chair" covering, and in the portieres. Other 
details, such as a mirror framed in gilt, brass andirons, fire-set, lamp 
and candlestick, not forgetting white muslin curtains embroidered in 
cross-stitch, are added to give a last touch of local color to the simple 
and pleasing scheme. 

The fourth interior. Sketch D, is an example of the new art, avoid- 
ing those vagaries which a witty writer has recently characterized as 
the choice of newly married couples, callow professors, and budding 
aesthetes. It is a study in spacing, as is shown by the treatment of the 
woodwork, the structure and decoration of the chimney, and the dispo- 
sition of the movables. The color scheme, based upon the green- 
brown of the woodwork, runs through the rich russet-yellow of the 
plastered walls, the russet leather of the settle, the greens (gray to 
golden), ivory, and pumpkin-yellow of the rug, and, finally, the green 
of the portiere, with its rich old gold tracery. The decorative scheme 
concludes in the landscape panels in oils set above the mantel, and the 
beautiful tiling of soft Grueby green, showing glints of violet. This 
scheme, simple to the point of crudeness in its basis of structure, be- 
comes satisfying and varied through the agency of color, which itself 
changes with every mood and caprice of the weather. 




O imitate the basketry of the North American Indians 
has recently been the ambition of public school children, 
and the passing fancy of club-women. But while both 
of these classes have thus satisfied the natural desire to 
create something; while they have closely copied shape, 
stitches and design, they have too often failed to seize 
the meaning of the originals, which in many cases are beautiful speci- 
mens of one branch of the second oldest art, if husbandry be counted 
as the first. In examining baskets from the hands of these women of 
the red race of America, we gain a retrograde vista into the times 
"when Adam delved and Eve span," such as can be afforded by no 
other extant objects. We gain also, if we wish, the most valuable 
ideas and material with which to pursue the study of ornament. For 
it is certain that the primitive basket-maker originated the patterns 
which, modified by primitive weavers and potters, developed into the 
motifs which have served the proudest uses in the decorative arts, and 
are still employed, although in forms so highly evolutionized as to be 
unrecognizable to the ordinary eye, when they are compared with 
their originals; just as the elements of Aryan speech are unsuspected 
in the modern languages of Europe by the ordinary persons who use 
them as their mother tongues. 

To study decorative art from the surface: that is, to imitate the 
designs of authoritative contemporary artists, is not only to remain un- 
enlightened, but it is also to produce poor work; for, in the imitation, 
the spirit of the original composition will be lost, fitness will, in many 
cases, cease, and the principles necessary in the first instance, will be 
useless in the copy. The designer, in order to be the master, rather 
than the slave of his art, must know the reasons for the historical 
changes which have occurred in the elements of ornament with which 
he works ; since these changes are, many times, the effort of the design 
to adapt itself to the material upon which it is wrought. Often, too, 
thev result from the process of "simplification," during the course of 
which many or most of the original features are lost, and some one 
point rises to prominence, as when the object which suggested the 
design ceases to be consulted, and reference is made only to some con- 
ventionalized form of the original. An excellent illustration of this 
long process occurs in the herringbone pattern of Oriental rugs, 



which is the last evolutionary stage of the alligator design: the ser- 
rated line standing for the spine of the animal, and the dots contained 
within the points representing the scales of the hide. The case of 
historical change, or progression: that is, the effort of the design to 
adapt itself to material, may be illustrated by the lotus-flower, which, 
in the Egyptian wall-paintings, appeared in a series of isolated units, 
copied quite realistically from the plant, as it rose from the Nile. In 
the first stage, the design was incomplete artistically, since it lacked a 
continuous base line; in the second stage, the missing element was 
bestowed upon it by the Assyrians, who, as a people devoted to the 
textile art, naturally added a connecting line between the units, in the 
form of threads, or strands. Frequently, too, they inverted the de- 
sign ; using it as a fringe pattern, when the lotus flowers and buds 
transformed their calyxes into tassels pendent from cords, which, in 
the original pattern, were the plant stems. 

From these fragmentary illustrations it will be clear to the person 
who has never given thought to the development of design, that the 
decorative art of a highly civilized people is a very complex matter 
whose complete solution would be an impossible task. But the sub- 
ject, of much more general interest than would at first appear, is so 
closely allied with every branch of race development, that it is worth 
while to pursue it through its confusing mazes; always provided that 
the study be begun with the art of primitive peoples, since the less the 
complication, the greater facility for a comprehensive survey. It 
may be said in passing also that much respect should be paid to the 
idea of independent discovery and development on the part of the 
peoples studied, and that resemblances in design should more often 
be attributed to necessities of material and structure, to notions of 
symmetry inherent in the human being irrespective of race, rather 
than to more or less direct or remote imitation, unless the transmission 
of ideas can be easily established, as, for instance, in the case of the 
Egyptians, Assyrians and Greeks, who form, as to their artistic devel- 
opment, one unbroken series. Independence must necessarily char- 
acterize all primitive expressions of the arts of design, since "orna- 
ment is the first spiritual need of the barbarous man," who, compara- 
tively isolated, and therefore more impulsive and sincere, follows his 
own ideas for the pure pleasure that he derives from realizing them. 
In this case, theory is sustained by fact, as it has been proven by thor- 



















FIVE EXAMPLES OF FLORAL DESIGN: the border of the lower right specimen 





PO EX - S» AH. 



..usijv Mickley, Syracuse, N V. 

HOPI. (WAuPl) 


Copyrieht 1904, by 
&Btav Stickley. Syracuse. N. X. 



ough research that the more backward the people, the less they borrow 
artistic motifs. Originality and independence are, then, two claims 
which can be made for barbarous art, and to these a third^that of 
appropriateness — can be added, as one which is generally sustained. 
This quality is also a natural result, since the design, at its first appear- 
ance, is fitted to the material upon which it is wrought: the pottery 
design spontaneously tending toward curved forms, and the textile 
design assuming the angles necessitated by its application to threads 
or strands. Again, from another point of view, it is essential for both 
the technician and the critic to begin their studies with the art of 
primitive peoples, since the one may learn in this way to choose and 
modify his designs with taste and fitness; while before the latter 
there will open far-reaching vistas of the most essential historical 

A design can, in all respects, be compared to a living organism. 
It has its periods corresponding to youth, maturity, and old age. 
Created by enthusiasm, it is first symbolic; its meaning is all impor- 
tant. It is incomplete; its promises and possibilities are felt to be its 
best part. Containing strong elements of grace and beauty, it may 
lack an element of balance, something which shall unify and com- 
plete it. Such was the lotus design (anthemion) among the Egyp- 
tians. Closely associated with the Nile, the source of fertility, the 
water-lily typified life and immortality. Translated into design, it 
adorned the walls of the great temple, which in itself typified the 
world. But, in this first stage, as we have before seen, the design was 
incomplete artistically- — that is, externally. It was also, as we have 
seen, brought to maturity by the Assyrians, to whom it meant nothing, 
except as, reduced to decorative form, it pleased their aesthetic sense. 
Passing from the latter people, it entered upon its long course of 
decadence; reappearing in modified form, and at distant intervals, 
throughout the world at points most remote from one another, 
whither it was carried, through the operation of war and of com- 
merce. In the case of this special design, evolution can be traced 
with such ease as to justify in the main the theories advanced by Pro- 
fessor Goodyear in his treatise, "The Wanderings of the Lotus." 
Therefore, what is true of the design recognized as the most impor- 
tant, persistent, and vital example in the entire history of ornament, is 
true in a lesser sense of less significant specimens, and the student may 



begin his examination of North American Indian art, strong in the 
critical methods and in the judgment which he has acquired by trac- 
ing the life-histories of designs, from their origin early in the history 
of ancient peoples, who were destined to attain high civilization. He 
will find himself free to extend to its farthest limits the theory of inde- 
pendent development, since no counter-argument is possible; and, as 
proofs, he may adduce frets and keys resembling Greek, and Chinese 
designs, anthropomorphic forms scarcely less ingenious than those 
found in early Celtic ornament, as well as phyllomorphs (plant- 
forms), and representations of operations and objects in the physical 
world — like thunder, rain, storm and mountains — which latter would 
lead to the belief that the red race was not one destined by Nature to 
remain barbarous : as, according to scientists, would be indicated by a 
too great preponderance of animal forms in design. The result of 
such study can not be other than an awakening of admiration for the 
primitive designers who, in order to create, do not deliberately exam- 
ine all departments of Nature and of art, in the search for striking 
motifs; experimenting and struggling with themselves and their 
material in the effort to invent, and in this way missing the originality 
which they pursue with such diligence and pains. These North 
American Indians, so long despised save by a few specialists, will be 
proven to be designers obedient to sure artistic principles, working 
spontaneously, creating for pleasure, rather than for display, as is too 
often the case with those who follow a similar calling in highly civil- 
ized communities. 

In pursuance of this study of North American Indian design, it 
might be urged that pottery as a more important expression of the 
useful arts, should be selected for examination; but while the clay 
vessels are most interesting, they form the second link in the chain of 
evolution ; since the textile always precedes the fictile art, and because, 
in the case of these Indians, the pottery at first served but as an adjunct 
to the basketry. 

The latter, at present reduced among civilized peoples to an insig- 
nificant place among the crafts, occupied early in history a most impor- 
tant position. In Viollet-le-Duc's "History of the Human Habita- 
tion" its structural capacity is clearly shown, and in the works of other 
archeologists it is equally honored as a provider of primitive shelter. 
Its forms and characteristics were preserved long after its materials 



were discarded for stone, and to-day even, certain remembrances of 
its use occur in ordinary architecture. The round wicker hut of the 
Celt, such as it is pictured on the column of Antoninus, at Rome, 
developed into the wood and wicker outlook tower and beacon, and 
again, from this second stage, the structure, passing through skilful 
hands, became the typical stone Irish round-tower; retaining in its 
"string courses," or moldings, which serve no constructive purpose, 
reminiscences of the horizontal bands which strengthened the tall 
wicker house. Indeed, wicker construction, or basketry, is regarded 


as so significant, so much a part of the ancestral traditions of the Anglo- 
Saxon, that the English archeologist March, in his "Meaning of 
Ornament," attributes to racial memory the sense of disappointment, 
the feeling of expectancy, which rises in our minds at the sight of a 
large unbroken surface: a feeling precisely expressed in the lines of 

Hood: .. A wall so blank, 

That sometimes I thank 

My shadow for falling there." 

It is therefore but simple justice to acknowledge the claims of 
basketry in the role of an agent of use and decoration, as prior to those 
of pottery; especially among the North American Indians, with whom 



basketry long filled the place of pottery; being for them the almost 
universal receptacle, as the vase was among the ancient Greeks, and 
long serving the uses of primitive cookery, until the boiling pot came 
to reproduce in clay the boiling basket of vegetable fibre. Then even, 
the rope of clay, coiled upon itself, imitated the wisp of the basket, 
which, twined around and around a center, formed the bottom, and 
rose spirally, widening or contracting, until the desired height and 
form were attained. The clay vessel, thus evolved from the basket, 
repeated in detail its original; just as we have seen the stone round- 
tower retaining the characteristics of the wicker hut, after they had 
ceased to be structural. The surface of the pot was covered with 
incised or indented decoration, copied from the designs belonging to 
basketry; while cone-like projections, near the rim, reproduced the 
loops of withes, through which formerly the strap was passed to sus- 
pend the boiling basket: a survival precisely parallel to the "string 
courses" in architecture, since the conical projections of the pot no 
longer fulfilled the functions exercised by the loops of the basket. 
And this is but a single instance of the influence exerted by the earlier 
over the later craft. Examination in all cases justifies the opinion of 
the critic who asserts that "basketry impressed itself on the clay, 
literally and figuratively, and th'enceforward pots were doomed to 
basket-like ornamentation, until the possibilities of clay worked out 
the freedom of the pot from the limitations of the basket." 

From these and innumerable other equally strong indications, it is 
plain that Indian basketry should be regarded much more seriously 
and respectfully than it has been our custom to do; that it has a much 
deeper meaning than has been suspected by the majority of those who 
have recently counted its stitches and mechanically repeated its sym- 
bolic designs, in the effort, made without especial reason, to produce 
objects of no important value or use. It is certainly time to restore 
this art-craft, as practised byour red race, to the consideration which 
it merits. 

IN examining good examples of Indian basketry one cannot fail to 
observe a point of resemblance existing between them and the 
products of the highly artistic Japanese, who lavish their utmost 
skill, taste and wealth upon objects devoted to the commonest ser- 
vice of daily life, while yet the number and kinds of objects created 



and used, remain surprisingly few. The Japanese who glorifies 
his tea-cup and his screen, is followed in the same path, although with 
unequal steps, by the Indian woman who realizes in the form, texture 
and decoration of her food basket conceptions of beauty which no 
school can justly criticise. The barbarian artist understands how to 
balance in her creations the two forces — the aesthetic and the utili- 
tarian — which light, so to speak, for the possession of every object 


produced in the leisure and for the gratification of its maker. She 
retains in her baskets the full measure of usefulness, while, at the same 
time, she inscribes upon them her personal translation of the world 
lying about her. 

WITH the purpose of popularizing acquaintanceship with cer- 
tain features of this exquisite, although barbarous art, a 
number of specimens are here offered in illustration. They 
have been chosen for various reasons: several of them being fitted in 
both structure and shape to serve as examples of basketry impervious 
to water and adapted to the preparation of food; while they witness 
also the wealth of time, taste and skill which they have been judged as 
not unworthy to receive. Others again have been chosen by reason of 
the decorative motifs which they display, whether these motifs be 
considered as successfully conventionalized forms, or as symbolic 



ornament in various stages of evolution. The vase-like examples 
recall the Assyrian ceramic forms of about the sixth century B. C, as 
do even more fully their zonal zoomorphic decorations; while the 
specimen of similar shape appearing in the line-cut shows a textile 
technique rivaling that of the ancient peoples who fed their flocks on 
the great plains watered by the Tigris and the Euphrates. But it is 
only fair to say that these shapes, when compared with the Greek and 
the Pompeian, suffer greatly; since they lack fine curves and sharp 
definition of parts, although again much may be said in extenuation 
of these faults, when the proposed use and the structural material are 
considered. The frets or purely linear combinations, mosaic-like in 
character, show their designers to have been space decorators pos- 
sessed of mathematical sense, of boldness and style, who appreciated 
the effects obtainable from the proper assemblage and alternation of 
"lights and darks." 

Two designs are most interesting as studies in the evolution of 
ornament, valuable from the fact that they are condensed, and illus- 
trative of a single point. They are found in two of the plaque-like 
baskets, one of them being composed of an ornate lozenge border 
enclosing a curious and striking stepped design; the other showing a 
chain-mo/// which is distinctive and beautiful. Both these designs, 
although still vital with symbolism, have reached the second stage of 
their existence ; that is, they have reached their maturity as decorative 
agents. The lozenge pattern is the American Indian equivalent for 
the Oriental alligator design, but it is much more realistic, and as a 
result of being less "simplified," it remains more decorative than its 
parallel. It is a motif suggested by the skin of the diamond-back rat- 
tlesnake, and in order to complete its symbolism, it must be coupled 
with the interior design, which represents a mountain ascent, watered 
by copious streams, and abounding in quail, whose plumage is indi- 
cated by the filaments placed at the angles of the pattern. Regarded 
as symbolism, the work possessed a secret, perhaps a sacred, meaning 
for its designer, and her tribe; but in the light of pure ornament it 
afifords keen visual pleasure to the gentile world. The same may be 
said of the chain-mo///, which is composed of anthropomorphs similar 
to those found in Celtic art and which are there of such deep religious 
significance. And so, if space permitted, this study of Indian orna- 
ment might be indefinitely continued, always with pleasure to the 
student and often with profit to the cause of art. 


DR. DENMAN W. ROSS ^ From Handicraft for 
January, IQO3 

HAT is the matter with the Arts and Crafts? Why is it 
that, in spite of a widespread interest, with much talk 
and much activity, so little really good and satisfactory 
work is produced? Consider the work of the early and 
middle ages, of the Renascence, the work of our own 
colonial days, the work of the far east, of China and 
Japan. We have many examples in our houses, in our museums, — the 
masterpieces of earlier times. In comparison with these, the work 
which we are doing is most unsatisfactory. I am thinking, of course, 
of the work that is really ours, the work which we do upon the basis of 
our own thought and effort, the work for which we are wholly respon- 
sible. Good things are produced, very good things, but they are re- 
productions or copies of fine things done long ago. All we do is to 
adapt them to our purposes, to our needs, with very slight, if any, alter- 
ations. The changes we make are rarely improvements, and our 
copies and reproductions are not so good as they ought to be. Our 
artists and craftsmen, the ablest of them, have settled down to a sys- 
tematic imitation of historic examples, and the study of design is called 
the study of "historic ornament." It is only the ignorant, we are told, 
who imagine that they can produce any original work which will be 
good. The wise have given up the idea altogether. 

The work which we do, when we follow our own impulses and 
disregard precedents, is often useful. It serves its purpose, but it 
generally fails in design or lacks technical perfection. If, as some- 
times happens, our work is good in its general conception or design, it 
is almost sure to be the work of some amateur or dilettante who has 
good taste and good judgment but no technical training, no skill. The 
work is well conceived, but badly done. More often the work is well 
executed, but wanting in design. In that case it is the work of a man 
who has technical training, who knows his trade, but has no idea of 
composition. He has never thought of design, and is, consequently, 
unable to bring the beauty of order into his work. His work may be 
useful, but it is not beautiful, so it cannot be regarded as a work of art. 
We rarely find in original work the combination of good design and 
good craftsmanship which, together, make art. 



There is, as I have said, a widespread interest in the Arts and Crafts 
at the present time. There has never been so much talk, about them 
before. Societies are being organized every\vhere to look after 
them, — to encourage producers on the one hand and buyers on the 
other. The people who join the societies are divided into craftsmen 
and patrons, and the craftsmen are divided, according to an estimate 
of training and ability, into masters and apprentices. No end of time 
and pains are spent in making constitutions and by-laws, — the a priori 
legislation which never fits and gives no end of trouble afterwards. 
Then there are meetings, at which people talk, — the people whose 
business and pleasure it is to talk. As a rule, they have never done any 
work themselves, but they can tell us all about it, and what ought to be 
done. The talkers who have never done any work take a few lessons 
and begin at once to produce things, — hammered bowls, carved brack- 
ets, punctured lanterns. Then there is a jury to look at the things, — 
to decide whether they are fit to be shown or not, and there is an 
exhibition committee to arrange for the shows. These take place 
from time to time, and are attended by the patrons and other persons 
who feel kindly and take an interest, — sometimes to the extent of buy- 
ing the objects exhibited. A little market is created and a little busi- 
ness is done. So it goes on. and it is hoped, by such means, that the 
Arts and Crafts may be induced to flourish once more. We expect 
very soon to have artists, lots of them, and the artistic life everywhere. 
It is a moment of great expectations and high hopes, — to be followed 
presently by a disappointment. 

Our interest in the Arts and Crafts is altogether too superficial. It 
is more talk than work. The product is small and insignificant, and 
our little market is no real market. The fact is, we are playing at 
Arts and Crafts. It is a pastime, an amusement. The big world of 
hard work and real work is hardly conscious of our existence. Ask 
the manufacturers, the shopkeepers, and their employees, what they 
know about the Arts and Crafts movement, how they feel about it. 
They will tell you that they know little and feel less. Surely it will 
take more than our meetings and talk, more than our exhibitions and 
sales, more than all that, a great deal more than that, to bring the Arts 
and Crafts to life again. 

The real cause of their decadence, the real reason why they do not 
flourish, lies deep in our habits of life, and in the system of education 



which gives us those habits. It is to be found in the fact that the 
knowledge of art, which means aesthetic discrimination and judgment, 
is found, generally, among the people who do no work, people who 
study works of art, collect them, and talk about them, but produce 
nothing. It is to be found in the fact that the people who have tech- 
nical knowledge, training and skill, who are able to work and do work, 
have, as a rule, no discrimination, no judgment, no standards, no high 
ideals. In other words, we have all the fine impulses where there is 
no ability to follow them, and all the ability where there are no fine 
impulses. To make matters worse, the people of education, of judg- 
ment, and the people who have merely technical training and ability 
form tvvo distinct classes in our community, and these classes have 
almost nothing in common, have, indeed, very little to do with each 

There are lots of people who know the fine things that have been 
done in art, who care for them, who long to see such things done again, 
people who have good taste, right judgment, high ideals, and the num- 
ber of these people is increasing constantly. Instead, however, of 
trying to realize their ideals, working them out in the materials and 
by the technical methods of the several Arts or Crafts to which they 
properly belong, they find it easier, because it is more in their habit, to 
put their ideals into words, and to talk about them. Sometimes they 
give lectures and write books about art; what it has been and what it 
ought to be. In this way they express themselves, but always in the 
terms of language. Language is the only art which they understand 
technically, the only art which they can practise with any success. 
Very sharply distinguished from those who discriminate and pass 
judgment in speech and in writing, are the people who spend their 
days, all day and every day, in real work, — getting technical knowl- 
edge and exercising it. They are masters of their hands, of tools and 
materials, of methods, ways and means. These people, also, think. 
Of course they think, but not in the terms of language. They think of 
forces, attractions, resistances. They discriminate in manual efforts, 
in tools and in materials. They are good judges in all technical mat- 
ters connected with the Arts and Crafts. There is nothing these peo- 
ple might not do. They might do the finest things in the world ; but 
they never think of them. They have never studied any fine things. 
They have no knowledge of art. What they do is simply what they 



are told to do by the people who employ them and pay them wages, 
and these are not, as a rule, the people of education, who might be 
expected to superintend and direct. They are the manufacturers and 
shopkeepers who produce things to supply a demand and gain a profit. 
Of standards and high ideals the employers know quite as little as the 
people they employ. Their only motive is found in an "order to be 
filled." The two classes of people thus distinguished and described 
have, as I have said, very little in common and very little to do with one 
another. They rarely meet, and when they do meet they fail to under- 
stand one another. 

Words mean so little to those who work, and work means so little to 
those whose ideas exist only in the terms of language. The terms of 
language are abstract and general, the terms of work are to the last 
degree specific. The talkers and the workers meet only to misunder- 
stand one another, and they have very little respect for one another. 
"What is all that talk," says the worker, "that talk about the principles 
of design? What does he mean by balance, rhythm, harmony? Or- 
ganic unity,— what in the world is that? Righteousness, truth, 
beauty, — what are they? How he talks and talks, and quotes from the 
books! He is always begging us to do those things which he talks 
about. He cannot do them himself. He says so. He cannot tell us 
how to do them. He knows nothing about work. He does not know 
the difference between a nail and a wedge. You ought to hear him 
talk. It is perfect nonsense. Work is better than talk anyway. Let 
us go to work." That is what the worker says. From time to time 
the talker leaves his proper associates, the people who understand 
talking and talk themselves, and condescends to visit the worker in 
"his place of business," but he finds there nothing that pleases him. 
Work in itself he cannot understand or appreciate. What he looks 
for is the motive of the work, its idea. This he finds unsatisfactory. 
"It is not enough," he says, "to do your work well, even very well, it 
must also be worth doing. Your work is without design. It has no 
balance, no rhythm, no harmony. It lacks organic unity. I see in it 
no righteousness, no truth, no beauty. It makes me very unhappy." 
That is what the talker says to the worker, and he goes ofif, consoling 
himself with the words of the Lord to Ezekiel (xxxiii, 32) : "And, lo 
thou art unto them as a very lovely song, of one that hath a pleasant 



voice and can play well on an instrument: for they hear thy words but 
they do them not." 

Idealism, with its love of righteousness, truth and beauty, and 
technical ability, with its standard of perfection, the t\vo elements 
which go to make up the artist and the artistic life, are thus widely 
separated, — so widely separated that they cannot act together, as they 
should, to produce their proper issue in nature, in life. The case of 
the Arts and Crafts is, therefore, a case of disjecta membra. 

Many efforts have been made to bring the two elements of art, its 
idealism and its technical ability, together, but the efforts have been 
futile. The idea has been to bring the workers under the influence 
of the talkers. One of the objects of the Arts and Crafts Societies is 
that: to bring the people who work under the influence of the "higher 
criticism." The man who works, however, does not care for the 
"higher criticism." He does not understand it, and, like most men, 
he hates what he does not understand. He despises the condescension 
of those who pretend to know all about it, but cannot do it. The critic 
and the worker meet, but in vain. 

What I have said may seem very discouraging. It may seem to 
the reader that I have described a hopeless condition of things. The 
condition of things which I have described is far from satisfactory. 
That is true. It does not follow, however, that it is going to endure. 
I am by no means discouraged. I regard the situation with hopeful- 
ness, if not with cheerfulness. All the elements of art, of the artistic 
life, are here. They are separated so that they cannot act together. 
What we have to do is to bring them together. That is not impossible. 
It means simply that we must bring the teaching of art, the teaching of 
design, into connection with technical training. The young men and 
women who go into Arts and Crafts work must have the knowledge 
and appreciation of fine things. They must have standards which 
will enable them to criticise their own work as they do it. They must 
be critics as well as workers. Then we shall have the two elements of 
the artist life, its fine impulse and its technical ability, united and act- 
ing together. We shall then, at once, see a real life and activity com- 
ing into the Arts and Crafts. We shall see work produced, appro- 
priate to its purpose, good in design, and technically perfect. That is 
exactly what we want. 

Various forms of manual training have come into the schools. 



They are coming, also, into the colleges and universities. Manual 
training has not, however, as yet, come into connection with the teach- 
ing of art. By some people it is regarded as an educational discipline, 
sufficient in itself. By others it is recommended as a preparatory 
training for mechanics and engineers. As a discipline, it is certainly 
of great value; as a preparation for certain kinds of professional work 
it is indispensable, no doubt. Up to this time, however, the teachers of 
manual training have been mechanics, not artists. They have had no 
interest in art, no knowledge of its masterpieces. The study of design 
and its principles has had no place in connection with manual training. 
The study of works of art, with the idea of discovering and establishing 
standards has never been introduced into the schools of manual train- 
ing; but it is going to be introduced there, — for that is exactly the 
place, where the study of art belongs. Technical training, without 
the knowledge of design, without artistic standards and ideals, without 
the artistic impulse, is of little value. On the other hand, the artistic 
impulse which would lead us to produce good and beautiful work is 
fruitless, so long as it is divorced from manual and technical training. 
The tvvo things belong together, and what we have to do is to bring 
them together, and that is what we are going to do, and we are going 
to do it at once. The pessimist says: "How dismal it all is, how 
unsatisfactory." We are not pessimists. "How fine it will be, what 
splendid work we are going to do, as soon as we have the requisite 
knowledge with technical skill." That is what we say, and that is 

We must have the knowledge of design in its principles, which are 
the principles of order. Order, system, unity of motive or purpose, 
beauty of form: that is the meaning of design. Beauty is not defin- 
able, but it manifests itself in three principal modes: balance, rhythm 
and harmony. These are the modes in which beauty is revealed both 
in Nature and in works of art. By balance we mean equal opposition 
or antithesis. By rhythm we mean the joint action of two or more 
attractions or forces to carry the eye and the mind in a motion through 
the measures of time or of space. By harmony we mean that the 
constituent elements of a work have something in common which 
brings them together in unity. We say of a work, that it is in harmony 
with its idea or purpose, or that the terms are in harmony with one 
another. Thus we have harmony of tones, of measures, and of forms 



or shapes. The practise of design means bringing terms or ideas into 
the modes of balance, rhythm and harmony. The only means of 
coming to a clear understanding of design, and an appreciation of its 
importance, is found in the practise of design, — in exercises in the 
composition of terms and ideas. — trying to bring the many into one, 
the one into many, as Plato puts it. At the same time we must study 
the art of the past, particularly its masterpieces, the aim being to get 
a power of visual discrimination, critical insight, and right judgment, 
and, ultimately, high standards and ideals, and the noble impulse 
which comes out of them. Examples and illustrations must be brought 
together; if not original works, then copies or reproductions; if noth- 
ing else can be had. photographs will serve the purpose. The best 
method of study will be found in a technical analysis, by which the 
component elements and motives of a composition become clearly dis- 
tinguished and defined. * * * We shall then have art once more, 
and the artistic life. Again, works of art will be produced. The 
conditions and circumstances of modern life will give us new prob- 
lems, and we shall have artists to solve them. Now we have only half 
an artist here, the other half somewhere else. His head is in one 
place, his hands in another. The all-around, complete artist, with his 
knowledge of fine things, his discrimination and judgment, his stand- 
ards and ideals, his knowledge of tools and materials, of ways, means 
and methods, his power of eye and skill of hand, — that is the man we 
want, the man we must have, before we can hope to see the Arts and 
Crafts alive again, and flourishing. 

We must give up the idea that everything can be understood in the 
terms of language, that the educated man is one who talks and writes, 
but does no other work. We must give up the idea that all the wisdom 
of life is to be found in the words, phrases, and sentences of high phil- 
osophy. Language is only one among many arts. It serves many 
purposes, but not all, and among the purposes which it does not serve 
are those of the Arts and Crafts, — architecture, sculpture, painting, 
and the many and various minor arts connected with these. The feel- 
ings, emotions, thoughts, ideas, ideals, which find their expression in 
drawing, painting, modeling, carving, construction, of one sort or 
another, cannot be properly defined and expressed, cannot be properly 
discussed or understood in the terms of language. Archaeology, his- 
tory, — that is another matter. The discriminations, which mean right 



judgment in regard to works of the Arts and Crafts, are discrimina- 
tions in the sense and in the terms of vision. These have no real 
equivalents in the terms of language. The appreciation of such work 
rests always upon technical considerations. We do not know that a 
thing is bad unless we know how it was done, how it ought to have been 
done, what ought to be done to make it better. That means technical 
experience and technical knowledge, if not technical ability. 

To be a real critic, you must have studied the masterpieces in a way 
which the man of words cannot understand. You must have analyzed 
the fine things. You must know exactly what they are made of, and 
how the materials were put together. To make sure of your knowl- 
edge you must have put similar materials together in the same way 
with approximately the same result, bringing the knowledge and 
understanding gained by analysis to the test of synthetic efifort. To be 
a real critic you must have all the knowledge of the workman. To be 
a helpful critic you must know more than he knows. You must be 
able to explain your idea to him in technical terms, and by means of 
illustrations, doing yourself what he ought to do. The real critic is 
a workman — potentially, at least. It is always through the practice 
of an art that we come to a real knowledge of it. * * * 

It is plainly the business of our schools, colleges and universities to 
recognize the existence of many different arts, different modes of 
thought and expression, to acknowledge that language is only one 
among these, the most important one perhaps, but not the only one by 
any means. In order to give our youth a real knowledge of the differ- 
ent arts and their masterpieces, our teaching must be practical as well 
as theoretical. We must put their knowledge upon the basis of tech- 
nical analysis and synthetic practise. 

This is not at all the view which prevails in our places of teaching 
and learning. The teacher, the professor, who has never done any- 
thing but talk about art, or write about it, is very slow in coming to the 
idea that he is not doing all that he ought to do. He will tell you that 
the thought which cannot be formulated in terms of language has no 
place in the school, or in the university. He protests against all tech- 
nical exercises and practises. "All that," he says, "belongs to the 
profession. If you wish to take up art as a profession, you must go to 
the art school. What we do here is to exchange judgments, and we 
do that in the terms of language, which are the terms of philosophy." 



The professor cannot understand that the judgments which he offers 
in the terms of philosophy are no judgments at all. They are certain- 
ly not judgments of art. It is the archaeology of art, the history of art, 
the philosophy of art; it is the abstract, general ideas, suggested by 
works of art, that he talks about. The technical part of art, which is 
art itself — that does not interest him. He has no appreciation of 
design, in a technical sense, and no appreciation of technical perfec- 
tion, or achievement. It is enough for him, if the work suggests some- 
thing of righteousness, truth, or beauty. He is satisfied, if the motive 
is unmistakably good. It is one thing, however, to suggest the ideal. 
It takes very little art to do that. To achieve the ideal, technically, 
to bring it forth as a tangible and visible reality is quite another matter. 
That is what art is, not merely suggesting, but fully realizing the ideal, 
realizing it to the last point of technical perfection. Of that our 
professor knows nothing, except as he tries, in his talking and writing, 
to express himself well in the terms of his own art — the art of lan- 

Assuming that our object, in education, is merely to induce right 
judgment on the part of those whom we undertake to educate, the 
importance of technical training as a means of getting that right judg- 
ment, must be evident. If we go further than that and say that the 
true education is a preparation for life and life's work, technical train- 
ing becomes a still more important part of it. What we have to do, in 
that case, is to give to our pupils technical ability of all kinds, and, with 
it, the finest possible impulses — the impulses which come from a real, 
thorough knowledge of the best work that has been done in the world 
and the best thought that has been put into it. Thucydides says of the 
Greeks (in the funeral oration of Pericles) : that they had "the singu- 
lar power of thinking before acting, and of acting too." That is what 
we want, as the outcome of our teaching, whether it be in the school, in 
the college, or in the university. We do not want an impotent ideal- 
ism, but a potent one. We want all that idealism means : discrimina- 
tion, right judgment, high standards, but more than that, the ability, 
the power, to achieve our ideals technically. Then we may expect to 
realize them — when the philosopher goes to work and the working 
man becomes a philosopher. 


OF 1904 

OUSE Number XIL, in the Craftsman Series for 1904, 
ofTers an especially attractive exterior, together with 
certain features of construction and detail whose value 
becomes apparent upon the examination of the plans and 
perspective drawings. 

The home is set within a garden of the informal type, 
which is threaded by gravel paths, both regular and irregular, and 
contains numerous flower-beds, ample greensward, and a variety of 
trees and shrubs. Hedges are introduced at points where screens are 
desirable, and, when pierced by walks, they are provided with rustic 
gates surmounted by arches dressed with vines. 

The site selected is a corner lot eighty by one hundred sixty feet, 
but any city or suburban lot with a frontage of seventy feet or up- 
wards, can be utilized with good results. The house, as may be seen 
by reference to the plans, is effectively placed, and the service entrance 
kept apart from the garden, which is reserved strictly as a place of 
recreation; a small area of turf bounded by hedges, being set off as a 
drying space. 

Against this background of differing greens, spotted here and 
there with the patches of color afforded by the flower-beds, the house 
is admirably accented; presenting a complex arrangement or reds, 
browns and blacks found in the bricks, which contrast happily with 
the varied tones of green occurring in the timber, plaster and shingles. 
The brick used are the hard-burned "clinkers," often discarded by 
the manufacturer as of little value. To obtain them will probably 
necessitate a visit to the "yard," in order to insure a proper selection of 
specimens, but this once made, there will be no further difficulty in 
securing the desired variety of this building material. These brick 
are used for the exterior walls from grade up to the line of the sec- 
ond story window sills; they are laid with a medium joint in mortar, 
into which is introduced enough pigment of a dark green color to 
cause the composition to appear almost black at a short distance. No 
cut stone is used in construction; the window sills being of brick, as 
also the lintels, which are either flat or arched, as the case may be. 
Where arches occur, opportunity is given to introduce patches of con- 
trasting color, by means of the plaster which is here applied to the 
























Above the brick, the walls are covered largely with plaster, with 
the use of sufficient timbering to prevent monotony of surface, or of 
color. This plaster is applied so as to present a rough texture, enough 
green pigment being added to the last coat to remove the gray from the 
natural cement. When the plaster has sufficiently dried, a whitewash 
brush, dipped in the same green pigment, somewhat thickened and 
darkened, is used to produce random "splotches" of darker tones on 
the wall surface. This process is not one which requires great skill, 
and it can be accomplished by an ordinary day workman, under the 
direction of the houseowner. 

^^^ «KH t^5>;^^jg ^"~'a»::<a?'-^,^^^:^ "" ^^^^ 

>»^^g^ S;^^;^^^^< >v^) 



The timbering is of unplaned cypress, and the rough faces of all 
exposed wood-work are treated with a heavy brush-coat of very dark 
moss green (Cabot's No. 302) . The roof shingles, also of cypress, are 
stained to a moss green (Cabot's No. 303) . The roof from the street 
front shows a surface broken only by the flanking chimneys, which, 
with their white concrete caps, surmounted by red pots, give points of 
contrasting color. These chimneys are both "outside" constructions; 
the one at the living room end of the house being made large enough 
at the base to contain a cozy ingle. At the rear of the house there is 
a terrace of brick and concrete, to which access is had by a door open- 



ing directly from the living room. The curb wall afifords space for 
potted shrubs, and steps lead down to the gravel paths of the garden. 
The front porch is of cement and brick, and is sheltered by a shingled 
roof supported on four sturdy columns. All portions of the exposed 
woodwork of the porches, as well as of the window frames, etc., are of 
cypress, stained to the same green as the timbering of the second story. 

The service entrance stands at one end of the house and is sheltered 
by a porch, beneath which is the outside cellar door, having steps of 
stone and brick leading from grade. 

While simplicity is intended to be the key note of the whole, and 
while the house lacks absolutely those features of common use which 
are produced by the scroll saw and turning lathe, one notes with 
instant pleasure certain details, such as the arrangement and construc- 
tion of the window openings in general, the oriel window of the second 
story sitting room, and the larger window feature on the landing of 
the principal staircase. 

The main entrance door, flanked by small casement sashes, is sim- 
ple in construction; having one large flush panel, above which there 
is an opening containing a design in leaded glass; while a further 
decorative feature is added by the hinges and other fittings of hand- 
wrought iron. 

The trim on the first floor is of chestnut, finished a gray-green by 
the use of a solution of iron, as described in recent numbers of the 
Craftsman ; the floors being all of oak, "fumed" to a dark gray. The 
second story trim is of poplar, with all doors and bases treated by 
chemical agents, productive of a gray-green similar to that of the first 
story. The remaining trim, including the sash, is finished in old 
ivory by the use of enamel ; while the floors throughout are of chest- 
nut finished in dark gray. 


The Hall : Here the walls are tinted to a subdued yellow and the 
ceiling to a dark ivory; the latter being of rough plaster and beamed. 
These yellowish tones chord admirably with the gray-green of the 
chestnut finish, and are repeated in the textiles: the windows being 
hung with a thin corn-colored Japanese silk fabric known as "shiki;" 



the rugs showing yellows combined with soft greens and India reds; 
the seat having yellow pillows which are effective against the green 
cushion. The same colors again appear in the leaded glass panels of 
the entrance door and of the door leading to the serving room, which 


echo the delicate corn shade of the curtains, combined with clear, cool 
tones of green in the leaves of the design. The latter color occurs 
once more in the jardiniere set on the wide railing of the landing, and 
containing a shrub of boxwood. 

The Living Room: The walls of this room are covered with can- 
vas of a soft terra-cotta shade, with the frieze in the same color as the 



ceiling, which is of rough plaster, colored to an old ivory efifect. The 
interest of the room centers in the ingle nook, made picturesque by the 
chimney built of hard-burned "arch brick," in which beautiful tones 
of gray mingle with the dull red. A gray sand stone arch spans the 
fire opening, above which there is a wide shelf of the same substance. 
The windows, glazed with small panes of varied dimensions, are hung 
with curtains of corn-colored silk, the same as those of the hall, while 
the portiere at the door leading to the hall, is of a yellow-brown fabric. 
The ingle seats have dark blue cushions, and the old-fashioned home- 
made "rag" rug shows a design in blue and white. The furniture is 
of dark gray "fumed" oak; the book cases having panels set with 
mullioned panes of clear glass. The artificial lighting comes from 
side electric fixtures in wrought iron, which hang from brackets and 
shed a light agreeably softened by passage through yellow glass 
shades. A small table, holding a blue and white tea service and a tall 
silver urn, stands near the chimney, and the shelf above the fire place 
displays several attractive pieces of old copper. 

The Dining Room: The decorative scheme of this room is com- 
posed of a gamut of color known as parchment browns. The walls 
may be either tinted, or covered with paper in a medium shade of 
parchment, or snufif color; while the ceiling is tinted to the lightest 
parchment yellow. The windows, pierced above the sideboard, are 
hung with linen curtains of the natural color of flax, and the rug has 
brown as its predominating color, with spots of dull plum and soft 
green tracery. The room is artificially lighted from a central fixture 
having a large domical globe of straw-colored glass, hung about the 
base with fringe which modifies the light. The furniture is of oak, 
fumed to a deep rich brown, and the sideboard is fitted to a space de- 
signed for it. 

The Second Floor Sitting Room: Old rose and blue combine in 
this room to compose an agreeable harmony with the poplar wood 
work, which, as has been previously mentioned, is stained gray-green, 
with the exception of the casings and sash; these being enameled in 



ivory-white. The walls are tinted to an effect of old ivory containing 
a suggestion of rose, and the windows curtained with a thin material 
in a pale shade of the latter color. The "rag" rug shows a green back- 
ground with blue and rose border-lines, and the wicker furniture, as 
well as the seat, is cushioned with cretonnes figured in the two pre- 
vailing colors. 

The Bedrooms: As the colors used in these rooms must be 
adapted to exposure, it is possible only to give general suggestions for 
the schemes. 


6» 9 6 

Bed R-r-1 




■SixTir-ic I~Iai_i_ I 
II -ox ifi-o 




The front bedroom has the plaster of its walls tinted to a soft green, 
with Japanese grass cloth upon the floor, and white muslin curtains at 
the windows. 

The middle room might well be treated in cream and white, with 
the former color upon the walls, and the floor covered with a yellow 



and white "rag" rug. With this scheme the furniture should be of 
curly maple, and the bedstead of white enameled iron. 

The bedroom at the head of the stairs might be given an old-time 
air by using a figured blue and white paper upon the walls, a "rag" 
rug in the same colors, a typical blue and white counterpane for the 
bed, and pieces of cross-stitch embroidery for the various covers. 

The third bedroom might be treated in tones of buff and brown, 
and furnished with fumed oak for a man's occupancy. 

The attic room, designed for the servant's use, has the woodwork 
roughly stained, and the walls covered with paper in a striped or 
flower design. It may be said in passing that the remainder of the 
attic space, which is ample, is devoted to storage purposes. 

The bath-room is wainscoted with cement to the height of five feet 
six inches, and above this point the walls are enameled white, while 
the oak floor is finished to match in color the doors upon the second 

The Kitchen : Here the trim, continued to the pantry, is of Caro- 
lina pine, stained to a warm brown; the walls are painted a golden tan 
shade, and the floor, like that of the living room and of the dining 
room, is of oak. This room, as may be learned from the plan, is 
large and fitted with all conveniences to ensure easy and rapid do- 
mestic service. It communicates with the rear entry containing 
the ice box, and from which stairs lead to the cellar and also to the 
second floor. 

The Craftsman House terminating the series of 1904, will, it is 
believed, compare favorably with any of its predecessors of the year 
just passed, although it is not the example involving the highest ex- 
penditure ; its approximate cost being placed at $6,000. 



THE Craftsman, although humble 
in life and restricted in means, has 
yet many friends, especially among 
the youth whom he delights to see develop- 
ing about him. A group of such, students 
of a literary course in the local University, 
gathered, a few days since, in his work- 
shop. They discussed among themselves 
their studies, their recreations and com- 
panions, in that gay, careless, good- 
humored manner, which is inseparable 
from the student throughout his college 
course, and leaves him forever, when on 
his graduation day, he assumes the 
scholar's cap and gown. 

The Craftsman grew more deeply inter- 
ested as the debaters proceeded, and at last 
laid down his tools to listen; when one of 
them, graver than the rest, quoted a pas- 
sage from a classic work of literature, 
which he had read the same morning in 
one of his classes. The passage occurs in 
that outpouring of a pure and generous 
spirit, which is the story of the long agony 
endured in the cause of Italian liberty 
and unity by the scholar and patriot, Silvio 
Pellico, who, in his solitary confinement, 
exclaimed : 

"Let us govern our imagination, and 
it will be well with us almost everywhere. 
A day passes quickly, and, when we lie 
down in our beds without hunger and 
without sharp physical pain, what matters 
it, after all, if the bed be contained within 
walls which create a prison, or those 
which constitute a palace, or a house?" 

The student, having recited the quota- 
tion, began to comment upon it after the 
manner of a budding philosopher; using, 
greatly to his own satisfaction, the tech- 
nical terms of the school, and following 
the beaten paths of reasoning. 

The Craftsman, on the contrary, used 
a more practical method of demonstration. 
He turned to measure the quotation by 
the standard of his personal experience. 
He brought to his mind an occurrence 
which proved to him the power of the 
imagination over extreme conditions of 
external things. 

A Thanksgiving Day in Boston pre- 
sented itself to him as clearly as if no per- 
spective of time intervened between him 
and the scene. He, then a young appren- 
tice, stood in the spacious square, which, 
already adorned with the great monu- 
ment of Trinity Church, together with 
those lesser structures of the Old South, 
and the Museum of Fine Arts, as yet 
lacked the Public Library. It was noon, 
and the square lay bathed in the clear 
amber tone of the late autumn sunshine, 
which brought into strong relief the faces 
of the throng surging into the streets from 
the just concluded sermon of the great 
teacher, Phillips Brooks. In this throng 
certain countenances remained still illumi- 
nated by the reflection of the radiant spirit 
which had swept past them, and these, 
for the most part, as the young workman 
noted, were faces of the middle classes. 
But the greater portion of the throng was 
composed of the highly placed in life, for 
whom the inspiration had already died, 
and the associations of the Puritan Fes- 
tival w-ere unimportant. It was plain that 
they carried with them their own limita- 
tions and atmosphere ; the routine of af- 
fairs, of social and professional life, had 
made heavy, ineffaceable marks upon 
them. It was as if ghost-like burdens 
were traced upon their shoulders. The 
apprentice wondered at the phenomenon 
before him, but, by the light of the stu- 



dent's quotation, the experienced Crafts- 
man explained it to himself: These men 
and women, externally powerful and dis- 
tinguished, did not govern their imagina- 
tive faculty'. On the contrary, they al- 
lowed it to master them with its sugges- 
tions of fatigue and of possible perils to 

The Craftsman remembered that he 
had turned away disappointed from the 
imposing square to follow a street in which 
an educational institution had thrown 
open its doors to provide the place for a 
Newsboys' Thanksgiving Dinner. Here, 
the apprentice entered, expecting to be 
further depressed : this time by the bur- 
den of poverty, instead of the burden of 
wealth and station. But his forebodings 
were not realized. He saw, indeed, the 
ragged and the untidy; a mingling of 
races and nationalities which recognized 
no color-line, and excluded no system of 
religion. It was not an agreeable assem- 
bly to study, save from the philanthropic 
point of view. But cheerfulness was in 
the air, making, as it were, haloes about 
the heads of these poor children of the 
streets, and glorifying them for a brief 
hour. The apprentice, too, seized the 
spirit of the festival, and the memor>' of 
the moment lasted for the maturing man 
down to the recent day of the students' 
discussion, when it came back to him with 
the vigor of a first impression. He real- 
ized the power possessed by these outcast 
little ones to govern their imagination, to 
forget the hard conditions of their ex- 

THE Craftsman grew happier than 
he had been before, on the chill No- 
vember day, and, as he reached from his 

bench to fasten upon the wall the quota- 
tion from Silvio Pellico, translated for him 
by his friend the student, a ray of sunlight 
entered through the narrow window-slit 
to flood the dark workshop with radiance 
and warmth. 


WE shall be pleased to publish each 
month under this head all duly 
authenticated notices of respon- 
sible Arts and Crafts Exhibitions, Artist's 
Exhibitions, Craftsman's Institutes, Man- 
ual Training Summer Schools, and the 
like, if sent in time to be an item of news. 
Address Editor Notes, The Craftsman, 
Syracuse, N. Y. 

The Alpha Club of Elmira, N. Y., gave 
a most interesting Exhibition of Arts and 
Craftsmanship in October. It was or- 
ganized and directed by Miss Anna B. 
Pratt, one of the indefatigable workers for 
the good of others for which Elmira has 
more than a local renown. The exhibi- 
tion was well attended and aroused con- 
siderable attention. Mr. George Whar- 
ton James, of The Cr.-\ftsman editorial 
stafif, was present and delivered his lecture 
on "The Poetrj' and Symbolism of Indian 

France has an Association for the En- 
couragement of "City Gardens." Its sec- 
retary is M. Georges Benoit-Levy, whose 
luminous article, translated by Miss Irene 
Sargent, is presented to the readers of 
The Craftsman in this issue. The 
movement is an excellent one, and one to 



be highly commended and encouraged, 
especially in our larger and more densely 
populated cities where public park and 
garden space are limited. 

The Saginaw- (Mich.) Art Club held 
its second annual Arts and Crafts Exhibi- 
tion November 8 to 12. The Exhibition 
was opened with a lecture by George 
Wharton James of The Craftsman edi- 
torial staff on "The Founding and Adorn- 
ment of the Ideal Home." The exhi- 
bition as a whole was a great success and 
accomplished much good. Though the 
Saginaw Art Club numbers but thirt)' 
members its associate membership is large 
and much sought after. These women 
are all earnest students and the influence 
of their work is already largely felt for 
good. It has been decided to make the 
Arts and Crafts Exhibition a permanent 
feature of the work of the club. Of Mr. 
James's lecture the Saginaw Courier- 
Herald said: "He is a forceful, pleasant 
speaker, and a man of progressive ideas. 
He awakens thoughts by his striking sen- 
tences. His plea was for honestj-, sim- 
plicity and personality in homes and home 
life. To be structural and honest were 
the necessary foundations of all that was 
truly artistic." 

In 1894 "as organized the National 
Municipal League. It has done and is 
doing excellent work. Its objects as pre- 
sented are : First — To multiply the num- 
bers, harmonize the methods and com- 
bine the forces of all who realize that it 
is only by united action and organization 
that good citizens can secure the adoption 
of good laws and the selection of men of 

trained ability and proved integrity for 
all municipal positions, or prevent the 
success of incompetent or corrupt candi- 
dates for public office. Second — To pro- 
mote the thorough investigation and dis- 
cussion of the conditions and details of 
civic administration, and of the methods 
for selecting and appointing officials in 
American cities, and of laws and ordi- 
nances relating to such subjects. Third 
— To provide for such meetings and con- 
ferences and for the preparation and cir- 
culation of such addresses and other lit- 
erature as may seem likely to advance the 
cause of Good Clt^- Government. Tlie 
officers of the League are Charles J. Bona- 
parte of Baltimore, President; Clinton 
Rogers Woodruff, Philadelphia, Secre- 
tary, and George Burham, Jr., of Phila- 
delphia, Treasurer. All those who are 
interested In the Important work of Mu- 
nicipal Reform should know of what this 
league has accomplished and send for its 

For a week in November there was 
exhibited in the rooms of the National 
Arts Club, New York, the monster paint- 
ing (13 feet by 27 feet) by Mr. John 
La Farge, which Is to be one of several 
for the Supreme Court Room of the New 
State Capitol, in St. Paul, Minn. 

A helpful book which will be added 
Immediately to the Woman's Home Li- 
brar}-, edited by Mrs. Margaret E. Sang- 
ster for A. S. Barnes & Co., Is "House 
and Home," a practical book of home 
management, by Miss M. E. Carter. 

Mr. Arthur Henry has returned from 



his "Island Cabin" to his "House in the 
Woods," to find that the latter scene of 
his latest book has been a centre of inter- 
est for visitors to the mountains this sum- 
mer. The author has received a request 
from the owner of a large mountain hotel 
to cut a path through the forests to the 
"House in the Woods" for the benefit of 
guests who are admirers of Mr. Henry's 
book. While these books represent in a 
sense nature literature, it is learned from 
the publishers, A. S. Barnes & Co., that 
the demand for the "gospel of the simple 
life" preached by this "homespun Thor- 
eau," as Mr. Henry has been called, in- 
dicates a constant and growing apprecia- 
tion of his work. 

The Craftsman announces to socie- 
ties intending to hold Arts and Crafts 
Exhibitions during the present season, that 
it will participate in such by sending ex- 
amples of furniture, metal work and em- 
broidered textiles wrought in the Crafts- 
man workshops: these articles to be sent 
under certain conditions, which will be 
made known to applicants. One of these 
conditions is that, during the progress of 
the Exhibition requesting the cooperation 
of The Craftsman, an illustrated lec- 
ture upon "The Founding and Adorn- 
ment of an Ideal Home" be given by 
George Wharton James, now upon the 
editorial staff of this Magazine. Mr. 
James is widely known in the United 
States as a lecturer and writer upon 
"Americana." He is the author of the 
standard book upon "Indian Basketry," 
and of deservedly popular works treating 
the "Grand Canyon," the scenery and 
architecture of the Southwest and Cali- 

fornia, and the "Indians of the Painted 
Desert." Into his new departure, Mr. 
James will carry his characteristic en- 
thusiasm and sympathy, which never fail 
to convince his audiences of the truth and 
importance of his utterances upon any 
subject chosen by him for presentation. 

There is no doubt that Mr. Watts- 
Dunton's reminiscences, collected and ar- 
ranged by one so eminently able as Mr. 
James Douglas, his biographer, will form 
a very important addition to contemporary 
records of the leading lights of the 19th 
Century in the literature and art of Amer- 
ica and England. Mr. Watts-Dunton is 
well known as the intimate friend of the 
poet Swinburne, with whom he has lived 
for many years at The Pines, Wimble- 
don, near London. During his long life 
he has been closely associated with almost 
all the distinguished workers in the great 
fields of art, whether literary or pictorial, 
including such names as Whistler, Ros- 
setti, William Morris, Burne- Jones, and 
Madox Brown ; Tennyson, Browning, 
Lowell, Bret Harte, George Meredith, 
Borrow, William Black, and Lord De 
Tabley. The work will shortly be issued 
by John Lane, publisher of The Inter- 
national Studio. 

Another book of Mr. Lane's is the 
second of the series of Living Masters 
of Music and deals with Sir Edward 
Elgar, the composer of "King Olaf" and 
"The Dream of Gerontius." Elgar had 
none of the advantages at his early 
start of having been educated at one of 
the big musical institutions. No power- 
ful musician advanced his career as a fa- 



vorite pupil. Somewhat counter-balanc- 
ing these disadvantages Elgar had everj' 
opportunity to develop his own individu- 
ality. His musical faith did not come 
to him ready made. He won his way to 
it through study of all kinds of master- 
pieces. His musical experience in the 
meanwhile was of a practical type. He 
was organist, leader of an orchestra, and 
conductor of a choral societj-. This has 
resulted perhaps in his diversity of stj'le 
as manifested in his diilerent composi- 
tions. The author of the work is Robert 
J. Buckley. 

We had intended to present to our read- 
ers in this number an interesting sketch en- 
titled "Nature in December," but owing 
to circumstances over which we had no 
control we are unable to publish it at this 
time. But we are fully assured that in 
the intellectual menu of live, interesting 
topics we have presented, not one will 
feel that he has been neglected. 

The Detroit Museum of Art, A. H. 
Griffith, Director, is arranging for an 
"Exhibition of Original Designs for Dec- 
orations and Examples of Art Crafts Hav- 
ing Distinct Artistic Merit," to be held 
in the Museum December 6 to 20, 1904. 
The exhibition will include only designs 
and art objects by contemporary designers 
and crafts workers. The distinction be- 
tween art objects eligible for exhibition 
and those manufactured for commercial 
purposes only, lies in the fact that in the 
former art must be the predominating 
feature and that the object must be the 
original work of the artist and not merely 
the result of mechanical process. A jury 

will pass upon the works submitted. In 
works accepted for exhibition from a com- 
pany or firm the designer or maker of the 
original artistic detail must be credited 
with the work done and the company or 
firm will receive recognition as exhibitors. 
Miss Clara E. Dyer of Grosse Pointe 
Farms, Mich., is the chairman of the Ex- 
ecutive Committee of the Exhibition. 

We wish our regular subscribers to pay 
particular heed to the announcement oppo- 
site p. 281 in regard to our Christmas offer 
of a set of Burbank's Indian Heads. We 
have prepared a special edition of ar- 
tistic Proofs of these exquisite and artis- 
tic red carbon drawings, size loi/o by 15, 
reproduced so that they are as near like 
the originals as modern skill and science 
can make them. These embossed proofs 
are on special paper, and are eminently 
suitable for framing to hang in den, li- 
brar)', studio, or bedroom. They are 
rare tjpes of pleasing aboriginal faces, 
made by the modern Catlin, whose work 
is now acknowledged to be the most mas- 
terly of any that has the Indian for a 
theme. Send in your orders at once as 
the edition is limited, and note that to 
secure them you must be an old or new 
subscriber to The Craftsman. If your 
subscription has expired, renew at once. 
If you have not yet begun, now is the 
time. Send NOW, w-hile you think of 
it, and while you may yet secure a set of 
these exquisite proofs. If you are already 
a subscriber send in a new subscription as 
a Christmas present for a friend. 

The New York State Federation of 
Women's Clubs held its annual meeting in 
Syracuse, N. Y., in the middle of Novem- 



ber. Every organization, like every human 
being, should have some object in its ex- 
istence. Each separate club, forming this 
federation, has some educational or philan- 
thropic purpose that is a reason, and a 
sufficient reason, for its being. In the 
olden days, unless women pursued teach- 
ing, their education, like the lighter novels, 
was pretty sure to end with marriage. 
But the women of to-day, whether college 
bred or not, have aspirations for something 
beyond their school days. The various 
literary clubs help to give the education of 
woman a "continuous existence," like unto 
that most superb of human races, the 
Greek. There are many other clubs, 
whose object is not self-culture, but some 
means to help the helpless, — charitable and 
philanthropic organizations. Why should 
clubs of such varied natures combine to- 
gether? Time and money are both too 
precious to be wasted, unless they can 
help onward some human cause. We can 
see many benefits to be derived from or- 
ganization. Different clubs might show 
us what they have done in music, art, lit- 
erature, philanthropy and handicraft. 
Programs, so often a burden to a club, 
might be prepared by a committee. The 
stronger clubs might set examples to the 
weaker ones. But helpfulness, in any line 
of work, seemed sadly lacking, in the pres- 
ent federation. Some good causes have 
been started and as suddenly dropped. The 
Trades School has been, for some years, 
a subject for both talk and work. They 
have raised nearly $4,000, had promises of 
more money, a plant of some value was 
offered them in Amsterdam at this Syra- 
cuse meeting, the entire project was given 
up. When we remembered that Harvard 

and Yale were each started from the sav- 
ings of ministers of small means, we 
thought that this federation had a very re- 
spectable beginning for a Trades School. 
The women who spoke on this subject, 
spoke from their very souls. They wanted 
some good object for the Federation. They 
treated this topic with power, and even 
pathos. Many of the philanthropic work- 
ers told of similar tasks which they had 
undertaken with smaller beginnings, and 
noble were the results. Many a listener 
was stirred in soul by these words. Most 
of these speeches were well worthy any 
body of men in "the Parliaments of the 
world." What were the arguments 
against the Trades School? "It was in- 
expedient." Every enterprise in this 
world is inexpedient so long as it is simply 
on paper. "The money was insufficient." 
Any sum of money, however large, is in- 
sufficient for any philanthropic task — to 
meet the awful want of the world, — un- 
less it have faith, rather than money, as 
its motive power. Faith, not merely 
Jesse T. Peck's hillside farm, made Syra- 
cuse University what it is, to-day. Add 
to "this much money," a few grains of 
faith, and these forty-five thousand women 
might start a Trades School that would 
make over anew the lives of thousands of 
girls growing into womanhood with 
brains idle and hands helpless; because no 
one is showing them the way to work. 
"They were loosely bound together; offi- 
cers changed often." This same argu- 
ment might be used against our state and 
national governments. These legisla- 
tures are not successively the same; but 
the strong men make records that the 
weaker instinctively follow. It might be 



said that many of these clubs are purely 
literao', the Trades School wholly me- 
chanical ; further that the organization 
was to help the clubs to better work for 
themselves, not they to help the Federa- 
tion in one of the thousand philanthropies 
of the world. But, surely, any form of 
helpfulness to others would be quite as 
educational to the separate clubs as its 
present form of helplessness. Verj' much 
time was given to long, dull reports that 
put to shame Homer — when he catalogues 
the ships. Motions upon motions were 
repeated, quite to the weariness of the lis- 
tener. Many reports were inaudible to 
the audience. The election wrangle, as 
in times past, made the clubs ridiculous to 
men — it was so like themselves in the 
great world of politics. Most of the in- 
dividual clubs get along without trouble 
of this kind ; so, likewise, do our great 
missionan,- organizations. Indeed, the 
difficult)' with most of these is to get 
women willing to serve as officers. Will 
we ever learn that the sole value of an 
office is in being wanted for that office, not 
in wanting it? Once I was a guest at a 
ministers' meeting when the pastor of an 
African Zion church made a little speech 
about fraternal feeling, ending with, "In 
the words of Scripture united we stand, 
divided we fall." A cousin sitting next to 
me whispered, "That man must have an 
appendix to his Bible." The Trades 
School seems, in some senses, an appendix ; 
but as it was the one vital topic at the 
Federation meeting ; as it is a work that 
the newspapers might honor, not ridicule; 
as it would give these women a topic for 
talk that would not be idle "words, words, 
words," I, hitherto uninterested in the 

Trades School as Federation work, and 
not a member of any federated club, voted 
in my soul and longed to speak with my 
tongue for the Trades School as a purpose 
worthy the time and talents of these fort>'- 
five thousand women who compose the 
New York State Federation of Clubs. 

J. K. C. 

On the 1 8th of Nevember the Bulifalo 
Society of Artists introduced to a select 
audience at the new Albright Gallery, Mr. 
John F. Grabau of the Derome Bindery, 
Buffalo, who spoke on the subject of 
"Bookbinding as a Fine Art. Mr. Gra- 
bau gave a very complete explanation of 
his art from the Craftsman viewpoint. 
He showed most thoroughly that book- 
lovers, to fully appreciate their books, 
must know how they are made. He ad- 
vised the frequenting of the Binderj' that 
workman and book-lover might freely in- 
terchange ideas. Among many choice bind- 
ings displayed by the Society, were those 
of the lamented Miss Evelyn Nordhoff, 
one of the few pupils of Cobden-Sander- 
son ; also a set of first edition of Boswell's 
"Johnson," and some fine examples of Mr. 
Grabau's own work, including auto- 
graphed editions from Joaquin Miller, 
the poet, and other literary- celebrities. 

Saginaw, Mich., is just completing a 
$200,000 Manual Training High School. 
One of our editors saw it the other day 
and is enthusiastic over its simple struc- 
tural architecture and the thoroughness 
with which its internal arrangements 
seem to be planned. A citizen gave $150,- 
000 for it on condition that the cit\' raised 
another $50,000 and provided for its 



equipment and continuance. The work 
is being done under the management of 
Superintendent Warriner, of the Saginaw 
High School. Later we hope to give a 
full and illustrated account of this school 
and its operation. 


IS it true that "thousands of people pay 
too much for their money," and that 
"it is possible to make a small income 
go much further in the purchase of peace, 
culture, sunshine and happiness than is 
commonly thought possible"? Evidently 
Phillip G. Hubert, Jr., thinks so, for fif- 
teen years ago he wrote a book on it in 
which he gave his theories. The book was 
received in a variety of ways. Many sug- 
gested that if his advice was followed the 
poorhouses would have to be enlarged, 
others deemed him insane, still others 
wrote letters of condolence to his "poor 
wife and children," while but few, at first, 
saw the sanit)' of the advice and appre- 
ciated what it meant. The world is wiser 
to-day, so now a new edition of the book 
is called for. It is a rational plea for a 
simpler life, for the joy of living, rather 
than the starving and slaving of money 
getting and hoarding. It is a practical 
book written by a man who has done what 
he advises others to do. His wife and chil- 
dren seem to be happy under the process, 
and he himself, after fifteen years of it, 
says it is good enough for the rest of his 
days. It's a thoughtful book, well worthy 
the consideration of all who are seeking 
to get away from the unnecessary com- 
plexities to a normal rational life. [Lib- 

erty and a Living, by Philip G. Hubert, 
Jr., published by G. P. Putnam's Sons, 
New York. Price, $1.20, net.] 

The Pacific coast is speedily making for 
itself a place in literature. Bret Harte, 
Ina D. Coolbrith, Charles Warren Stod- 
dard, Mark Twain, Joaquin Miller, Da- 
vid Starr Jordan, John Muir, Charles 
F. Lummis, George Sterling, Ambrose 
Bierce, Mary Austin, Margaret Collier 
Graham, are only a few of many names 
of literary world fame, and now Paul 
Elder & Company are coming forward as 
publishers who are clothing the thoughts 
of California authors as worthily as they 
deserve. In "Yosemite Legends," writ- 
ten by Bertha H. Smith, with drawings 
by Florence Lundborg, is a lesser book, 
but one that was eminently worth while. 
It is a good thing to gather the Indian 
legends of any locality and especially one 
so noteworthy as the majestic Yosemite, 
and transcribe them for future generations 
who will otherwise lose them. These 
legends are most interesting and are well 
transcribed and the stories gain much by 
the poetic quality of Miss Lundborg's pic- 
tures. [Yosemite Legends, Paul Elder & 
Co., San Francisco, Cal. Size 6V2XIO in. 
cloth, $2.00.] 

A pretty book, daintily yet frankly 
printed, well and tastefully bound attracts 
the attention whether the contents amount 
to anything or not, but when, withal, the 
author has had something to say and has 
said it well, then one has a book indeed. 
Adelaide Knapp loves Nature, not simply 
to write about it. The very location of 
her home, on the Hights, below where 



Joaquin Miller's eagles' eyrie is, compels 
knowledge, and with Nature as with all 
good things familiarity' does not breed con- 
tempt. There is a quaint flavor to her 
book, "Upland Pastures," which I love. 
For instance: "I am sure it is a great 
mistake always to know enough to go in 
when it rains. One may keep snug and 
dr>' by such knowledge, but one misses a 
world of loveliness." Later: "The young 
colt in the stall yonder thrusts an eager 
head over the half-door, and with soft, 
black muzzle in the air stands, open 
mouthed, to catch the delicious trickle. 
The cattle on the hills seem glad of the 
wetting, and even the birds have not 
sought shelter, and why should I ?" The 
book is sane and healthy. It breathes the 
true spirit of mountain and tree, of shrub 
and flower, of bee and bird, of man, of 
woman, of love and God. [Upland Pas- 
tures, by Adelaide Knapp, Paul Elder & 
Co., San Francisco, Cal. Price, $2.00.] 

There are certain essential conditions 
that must be fulfilled ere any dictionary' of 
any language may legitimately claim to be 
a "standard." It must be comprehensive. 
A dictionary' that fails to record the words 
in actual use by a people, even though 
many of those words are slang, or have 
local meaning, is not perfect. A diction- 
ary is the recorder of a language, not the 
maker of it. It is the business of a dic- 
tionary to answer all questions about 
words. A woman once said to the great 
Dr. Samuel Johnson, shortly after his 
famous dictionary' appeared, "I am sur- 
prised, Doctor, that you should have put 
unclean words in your dictionary'." "And 
I, madam," replied the Doctor, "that you 

should have been looking for them." A 
dictionary must also be thorough. Ever>' 
department of human knowledge and lit- 
erature must be carefully scanned and 
even,' word of common usage must be m- 
cluded. Then, too, it must accurately de- 
fine the words given. If it quotes sen- 
tences to illustrate the use of words they 
must be from authors of recognized abilit)'. 
Its pronunciations and spellings must rec- 
ognize the differences of authorities and 
wisely suggest the ones deemed best. If 
two or more pronunciations are accepted 
by standard authorities they must be given. 
Where pictorial representations are neces- 
sary to make clear the meaning of words, 
they must be made with artistic accuracy. 
A practical standard dictionary will afford 
rational help to students as to the com- 
pounding of words, and will aid towards a 
conser\'ative reform in obsolete spellings. 
It will also show when, where and why 
capital letters should be used. There will 
also be a method of presenting antonyms 
as well as synonyms, for it often occurs 
that a student can remember the opposite 
of the word he seeks but not a synonym. 
It should be most thorough and critically 
careful in giving pronunciations of proper 
names whether of places or personages. 
And, last, but by no means least, it is of 
importance that it should be up-to-date. 
We live in a fast age and a decade makes 
a vast difference in the language of a peo- 
ple so alive as is the American people. 

After a careful study and usage of 
many dictionaries, all of them regarded 
as authoritative, the St.'^xdard Diction- 
ary, published by the Funk & Wagnalls 
Co., of New York, appears to us to fulfil 
the exacting conditions laid down above 



more than any dictionary we have ever 

Notwithstanding the exacting rules of 
exclusion and inclusion applied to new 
words by the editors of this work, over 
seventeen thousand new terms, or new 
meanings of old words, have been admit- 
ted into this volume. These are all terms 
found in living literature, and not one 
obsolete word or meaning is among them. 
Great care has been taken to reject such 
words as did not comply with the rule 
"admit only those words that are so fre- 
quently used in books or in current litera- 
ture as to cause their spelling, pronuncia- 
tion, or meaning to be frequently inquired 

The new edition is brought down to 
the beginning of the present year, and as 
one tests it, again and again, in the course 
of a comprehensive course of miscellaneous 
reading, including science in many 
branches, general literature, travel, art, 
manufactures, and poetry he finds out 
its perfection and worth. Dr. Funk, the 
editor-in-chief of this colossal work, is to 
be congratulated upon the success he and 
his 257 assistant editors have achieved. 
The vocabulary contains 317,000 terms, 
92,000 more words and phrases than any 
other dictionary of the English language. 
It is beautifully printed, elaborately illus- 
trated, substantially bound and in the edi- 
torial rooms of The Cr.aftsman is not 
looked upon as a book, but as a responsive 
and reliable friend. [The Standard Dic- 
tionary, by I. K. Funk and many assist- 
ants. Sold only by subscription. Funk & 
Wagnalls Company, publishers, New 


"House and Home" is a practical book 
on home management. The author ad- 
dresses her book to "the bone and sinew 
of our nation, those who are comfortably 
well off, far removed from the millionaire 
realm, equally far removed from those 
whose lives are hard, sad and laborous." 

We are, to a great extent, influenced 
by our surroundings, and as the house is 
the "shell of the home," the environment 
in which the family is to develop, we 
should do our utmost to render this en- 
vironment an aid, instead of a hindrance 
to the attainment of the perfect family 

To this end. Miss Carter oflers her 
book, which contains good common sense 
advice and directions upon all subjects per- 
taining to the management and mainte- 
nance of a house. 

The subjects treated embrace such im- 
portant questions as "Choosing a Home," 
"Furnishing the Home," the care of its 
various rooms, "Engaging Servants," that 
most difficult of all questions confronting 
the mistress of the house to-day, and many 
others, all of vital importance to one who 
wishes to make the home healthful, com- 
fortable and attractive. 

The book is not a "dry" treatise as a 
book of this kind is so apt to be, but is 
enlivened by anecdotes, and pithy sayings. 

The interesting little studies in black 
and white at the head of each chapter 
make the book attractive typographically. 
("House and Home," by Mary Elizabeth 
Carter, New York: A. S. Burns & Com- 
pany. Size, 4I/2 by 7 inches ; pages, 265 ; 
price, $1.00 net.) 

"Wall Papers and Wall Covering," by 


Arthur Seymour Jennings, is a practical 
handbook for all who are interested in in- 
terior decoration. 

The author begins by defending the use 
of paper as a wall decoration, claiming 
that this form of wall covering plays an 
important role in popularizing art. The 
reason for the many ignoble papers seen 
in houses, as the author believes, is due 
to the fact that the decorator leaves the 
choice of designs, color, etc., to his client, 
who may have no knowledge whatever in 
this matter, instead of advising him, and 
giving him the advantage of the experi- 
ence gained during his career as a dec- 

Then follows much good advice as to 
how to select wall papers, with descrip- 
tions and illustrations of French, English 
and American designs. 

The tools used in hanging, and the 
methods employed in the decoration of 
the ceiling and side walls in paper, bur- 
Jap, dadoes, fillings, tapestry, etc., are 
described in a very comprehensive and in- 
teresting manner. 

The illustrations, which are many and 
well executed, show very interesting ex- 
amples of wall coverings of all kinds, as 
well as of the tools, etc., used in interior 

("Wall Papers and Wall Coverings," 
by Arthur Seymour Jennings, New York : 
William T. Comstock. Size, 1 1 by 7 
inches; pages, 161 ; price, $2.cx3 net.) 

The awakening interest In integral edu- 
cation — that of heart, hand and head — is 
growing. At Chautauqua they have an 
"arts crafts" department, and its director, 
Frank G. Sanford, has written a book en- 

titled "The Arts Crafts for Beginners." 
There are chapters on Design, Thin 
Wood Working, Pyrography, Sheet- 
Metal Work, Leather-Work, Bookbind- 
ing, Simple Pottery, Basketrj' and Bead 
Work. It is a simple book, simply writ- 
ten and in the main full of good ideas for 
beginners. We could have wished for a 
clearer statement of "design." Young 
people especially should be taught, — and 
the lesson cannot be too strongly empha- 
sized, — that simplicity and adaptability of 
structure to purpose are the first and chief 
desiderata in all design. That beauty is 
first of all in these things and secondarily 
in ornament. A bibliography of works to 
aid the progressive learner would also 

haue been an addition to the book. ["The 
Arts Crafts for Beginners," by Frank G. 

Sanford, The Century Co., New York. 

Price, $1.30, net.] 

Of the building of houses, like the mak- 
ing of books, it is quite natural that there 
should be no end. Home makers are often 
house builders, — generally desire so to be, 
hence everj'thing that helps them is a 
good thing. In three books that have just 
come to the Craftsman's desk are many 
ideas for the prospective builder. Many 
of them are good, some poor, a few bad. 
In this work as in all other we must in- 
sist upon the main principles. When an 
architect apparently regards "artistic" 
work as that of most importance we al- 
ways wish he might see the importance of 
putting structure and simplicity first. 
The architect is essentially the teacher 
in these matters. Hence if he put secon- 
daries in the place of essentials his teach- 
ing is harmful. We do not say this is the 
case in the three books under considera- 



tion. But there is a tendency at times to 
over value the importance of the secon- 
dary things. 

Some of Mr. Dewsnap's designs are 
models of excellence, and his floor plans 
are worked out with care and skill. Pro- 
spective builders of houses from $2,000 
to $12,000 would do well to send for his 
larger book. 

Those who desire to study cottage styles 
have a rare treat before them in Maurice 
B. Adams's "Modern Cottage Architec- 
ture." Especially to American architects 
should it prove useful, instructive and en- 
tertaining, for it gives the best cottages of 
their kind erected by some of the most rep- 
resentative architects of Great Britain. 
Here are humble three-roomed cottages, 
pretentious entrance lodges and "week 
end" cottages. Mr. Adams has prefaced 
the fifty pictures and plans by a carefully 
digested series of notes. "Houses for the 
Country and Suburbs," oblong, paper, 
I2^xg, $1.00. "Country and Suburban 
Houses," 13x10, paper, $2.00, both writ- 
ten and published by William Dewsnap, 
Architect, 150 Nassau St., New York. 

["Modern Cottage Architecture," by 
Maurice B. Adams, Fellow of the Royal 
Institute of British Architects, John Lane, 
New York, 121/2x9, cloth, $4.50.] 


ONE of the smaller "personal" 
periodicals is "Country, Time 
and Tide," published monthly 
at Montague, Mass. It is the organ of 
the New Clairvaux movement, in which 

a former Unitarian pastor named Pressey, 
seeks to inculcate his ideas for the im- 
provement of life. Here is his declara- 
tion of principles: I, Democracy. II, In- 
dividualism. Ill, Voluntary Cooperation. 
IV, Sentiment. V, A Changed Method 
of Production of Wares, Viz., Handicraft. 
VI, Altruism. VII, The Simple Life. 
VIII, A Minimum of Wage-Earning; a 
Maximum of Independent Labor. IX, A 
Minimum Dependence Upon Trade; a 
Maximum Dependence Upon the Soil for 
a Living. X, Distribution of Menial 
Service and Emancipation of the Menial 
Class. XI, Proportion Between Mental, 
Manual and Religious Education. 

A good statement, and if well carried 
out by congenial people, it will undoubted- 
ly help remove many of the unnecessary 
troubles of life. The Craftsman hails 
ever}' honest effort in this direction and 
will watch the development of the new 
Clairvaux idea with interest. 

The Printing Art never had a more 
worthy exponent than the monthly maga- 
zine bearing this title published by the 
University Press, Cambridge, Mass. The 
November number contains several most 
useful articles to others as well as printers. 
Walter Gilliss tells entertainingly about 
Hand Made Papers and Deckle Edges, as 
subject of peculiar interest to good book 
lovers. Here is the way the beginning of 
hand made paper is described. It is fact 
and poetr>' combined : 

"The vat-man stands in front of the 
vat containing the pulp (linen or cotton 
rags, macerated and beaten so finely that 
the fibres scarcely appear as particles float- 
ing in the water in the vat), one hand 



holding each end of the mould, which, 
after the pulp has been well stirred, he 
dips into the vat at an angle of about 
sixt}'-five degrees, and brings up, appar- 
ently, nothing but water, holds it level 
for a moment, and gives it a 'shake' this 
way and that. But hold! the shake has 
done its work; the fibres have become 
'matted'; the water drains through the 
mould, and, resting on the mould or screen 
is a silvery, translucent substance, which 
will, in a moment, be in condition (after 
the deckle is lifted away) to be laid down 
upon the felt, and so become, in embrj-o, 
a sheet of paper, — which some day may 
be destined to bear a message of love or 
hate, or carrj' the printed word to some 
remote corner of the earth." 

There are also some fine two- and three- 
color reproductions and a number of 
tasteful sample pages of fine books. 

Professor Davis, Librarian of the Uni- 
versity of Michigan, says some excellent 
things in Public Libraries, for November, 
on "An Over Use of Books." Everj' word 
is worth reading. We read too much and 
think too little. It is easier to read than 
to think. Joaquin Miller's advice savors 
somewhat of the rude mining camp, but it 
means much to this generation : "To hell 
with books. If you want one, write it." 
Here are some of Mr. Davis's wise words: 
"Reading alone does not make a scholar, 
* * * but only a book-learned man, — 
and not always this." "Reliance on in- 
spiration to bring results that follow only 
after mental toil is a vain reliance." "Par- 
allel with the thoughts of your author 
carry your own thoughts." "If as you 
read your mind is led of? to make excur- 

sions, let it go. The book can be resumed 
when the e.xcursions are over." 

The Contemporary Review for No- 
vember contains many good things, such 
as "Maeterlinck as Reformer of the 
Drama," "The Last Emperor of Brazil," 
and "The Religion of the Respectable 
Poor." These three items out of an ex- 
cellent bill of contents especially appeal to 
us, but space permits us only to refer more 
fully to the last article. It is interesting 
and real, pathetic and human, and contains 
more practical and psychologic lessons 
than many a pretentious paper by college 
professor. Its author is a nurse in a Lon- 
don poor district who has worked "often 
after dark and sometimes in the middle 
of the night, in alleys where I was told 
that no policeman dared walk alone in 
broad daylight." She shows how these 
people have a real religion though it may 
not be exhibited in outward forms. She 
says: "Many of the poor rarely attend 
church, not because they are irreligious, 
but because they have long since received 
and absorbed the truths by which they 
live." Elsewhere she asks : "Is it difficult 
to believe that there are those who attend 
church irregularly, or remain away alto- 
gether, not because they are persons of 
evil courses or dead to things of the spirit, 
but because their inward religious life is 
so strong and so simple that they are inde- 
pendent of any 'assembling of yourselves 
together'?" There are many such new 
thoughts in connection with the attitude 
of the poor to religion that it would be 
well for professed religious teachers to 
know and understand. 



It is always a delightful surprise when 
a mind that was thought to be exhausted 
is found to contain more "pockets" or 
streaks of gold. To this reviewer who 
has read all he could ever find written by 
or about Emerson it is a delight to "hap- 
pen upon" something hitherto unpub- 
lished. And this is his pleasure now. 
For in the Atlantic Monthly for Novem- 
ber is published for the first time Emer- 
son's exquisite prose poem on "Country 
Life." Oh how it makes one long for out- 
of-doors! It takes hold of one's heart and 
squeezes it so that the blood flows out to 
finger tips and gives a fresh vim and activ- 
ity to every movement. It exhales an 
aroma as of sweetest flowers and vivifies 
as does the sunshine on a cold wintery 
day. To quote from it is almost a sac- 
rilege for it must be read as a whole, 
though there are verbal diamond chains 
here and there, such, for instance, as the 
following: "The qualifications of a pro- 
fessor (in taking a walk) are endurance, 
plain clothes, old shoes, an eye for nature, 
good humor, vast curiosity, good speech, 
good silence, and nothing too much. If 
a man tells me that he has an intense love 
of Nature, I know, of course, that he has 
none. Good observers have the manners 
of trees and animals, their patient good 
sense, and if they add words, 'tis only 
when words are better than silence. But 
a loud singer, or a story-teller, or a vain 
talker profanes the river and the forest, 
and is nothing like so good company as a 

A walk in the woods "is one of the 
secrets for dodging old age." "I recom- 
mend it to people who are growing old 
against their will." 

Here is a gem that showed Emerson 
knew the Indian thoroughly: "All his 
knowledge is for use, and it only appears 
in use, whilst white men have theirs also 
for talking purposes." 

In October "all the trees are wind 
harps, filling the air with music; and all 
men become poets, and walk to the meas- 
ure of rhymes they make or remember." 

"In happy hours, I think all things may 
be wisely postponed for walking," and 
yet, "it is a fine art, requiring rare gifts 
and much experience." 

With one more quotation, which might 
have come from the pen of the Craftsman 
himself, so one is it with the thought he 
established this magazine to enunciate, we 
must close this inadequate and most frag- 
mentary review of one of the most de- 
lightful nature articles we have read for 
a long time. He says: "When I look at 
the natural structures, as at a tree, or the 
teeth of a shark, or the anatomy of an ele- 
phant, I know that I am seeing an archi- 
tecture and carpentry that has no sham, 
is solid and conscientious, which perfectly 
answers its end, and has nothing to spare. 
But in all works of human art there is de- 
duction to be made for blunder and false- 
hood." What a strong statement of the 
true, structural, honest basis of all living, 
true art! 

Another article that we wish every 
reader of The Craftsman would find 
and read in its entirety from this same 
number of The Atlantic Monthly, is 
"Work and Play" by Arthur Stanwood 
Pier. It is full of good things, needful to 
be said, and well said. We need to learn 
how to play, how to amuse ourselves. 
The fact that the theater has such a hold 



upon so large a number of our citizens is 
proof that we have not yet learned how to 
play. We need to have some one amuse 
us. We have few or no resources of our 
own. Mr. Pier makes suggestions that 
are good and it would be well if we all 
learned to carry them out. 

To book lovers, Miss Jeanette L. Gild- 
er's chat in the "Critic" is always inter- 
esting and instructive. The November 
number is no exception. In addition there 
are two articles of particular interest to 
poets and poetry lovers. The Poet Lau- 
reate of England writes on "The Grow- 
ing Distaste for the Higher Forms of 
Poetr}'," the last sentence of which is 
worth remembering: "No one deserves 
the designation of Great Poet who is not 
wise, who is not a profound philosopher, 
and who does not write and assist us to 
consort with as Wordsworth defines 
Great Poetry, 'Reason in Her Most Ex- 
alted Mood.'" 

The second article is a reply to the fore- 
going by Bliss Carman in which he makes 
some pertinent and powerful dissents from 
Mr. Austin's positions. 

Lawrence Hutton also continues his 
papers on "The Literary Life," and there 
is nothing more helpful in literature to the 
young author, or more instructive to those 
who wish to know behind the scenes of a 
successful author's life, than these papers. 

The Cornhill Booklet has had much 
"good stufiE" in it, but none better than 
the letters of Robert Louis Stevenson that 
appear in the winter, 1904, number. 
These are five epistles addressed to Trevor 
Haddon, now a great artist, then a young 

and unknown student. Like everything 
intimate that the well-beloved R. L. S. 
wrote these are well worth reading, and 

One cannot but be struck by the vari- 
ety of efforts to find a true method of edu- 
cation as he reads of the various "experi- 
ments" that are being tried on every hand, 
and to long for the coming of the day 
prophesied by Herbert Spencer when out 
of all these experiments would be evolved 
the ideal method. Now H. Foster Bain 
gives us in the Booklover's Magazine for 
November a highly instructive account of 
the Chicago Manual Training School and 
other schools in connection with the 
School of Education of the University of 
Chicago. Naturally much time is spent 
on integral education, but the experiment 
reaches out and takes in many other things 
not generally accounted a part of a child's 
education, such as pottery making, the 
drama in practise, playing at farming, etc. 

In the same number are some interest- 
ing photographs of mountain cabins, all 
suggesting the freedom and breeziness of 
woods, lakes, mountains, deer and bear. 

Harold Bolce also writes of what the 
Japanese are reading and shows that this 
serious minded nation is by no means neg- 
lecting its reading during the progress of 
the war. 

Two other excellent articles are San- 
born's "A Poetic Festival," which is a 
graphic description of the great Petrarch 
Fetes of 1904 at Avignon in the province 
of Vaucluse, and Birge's 'Tisheries of 
New England." Altogether a memorable 
number, showing editorial taste and judg- 





"There's a new foot on the floor, my friend. 
And a nenu face at the door, my friend 
A neiu face at the door." 




*HE Craftsman's new department, 
begun in the November number, 
swings wide its Open Door, and 
invites the attention of its readers to the 
timely suggestions which follow, many of 
which will be found especially helpful in 
planning for the holiday season. 

The cordial welcome which this new 
feature has received from many sources, 
confirms the impression that it has a mission 
peculiarly its own, that will prove to be a 
mutual benefit to its patrons and its readers, 
carrying as it does a home message to thou- 
sands of firesides and offices in a friendly 
and informal way. 

As previously announced, the Open Door 
department will be chiefly devoted to topics 
relating to the arts, crafts, and industries 
naturally allied in the broad field of home- 
building, home furnishing and home mak- 
ing, especially to those pertaining to the 
decorative arts and household utilities. 
The steadily increasing influence of The Craftsman among a large clientele di- 
rectly interested in these subjects, brings it in close contact with the wishes and needs 
of many correspondents all over the country, and while reserving the privilege of 
preference and opinion, when solicited. The Craftsman is always glad to refer in- 
quirers to the representative concerns in these collateral branches. 

The Open Door especially and cordially extends this reciprocal courtesy to those 
who are disposed to help themselves by using the business pages of The Craftsman 
for business purposes, with this gratuitous annex for the further information of The 
Craftsman's readers. 

GOOD CHEER Star-scattered through these crowded pages of the OPEN 

ON THE WAY DOOR, we make room for a few of the many words of cheer 
that come to us from far and wide, regretting only that space 
permits us to acknowledge in a single number, only the more recent expressions of 
good will and appreciation from readers new and old. 

The Craftsman takes this opportunity to thank its correspondents, one and all 
for their words of cheer, and hopes to continue this easy way of cementing the 
bonds of fellowship and mutual aid, by prompt and hearty recognition of their per- 



sonal influence and cooperation in making the magazine what it aims to he: an able 
and fearless exponent of American ideals in art and handicraft in all their mani- 
fold relations to the home, to individual and national life. 

A CHRISTMAS The Editor of the Open Door finds a timely Christmas 

THOUGHT thought in the business pages of The Cr.'MTSMAn^ which com- 

mends itself to him as a "home-message" of unusual force and 
significance just at this season, when all hearts are opening to the gentle influences 
of the coming Christmas time. 

The suggestion comes from a happy phrase or two, in the announcement of the 
Penn Mutual Life Insurance Company, the writer of which evidently realizes that 
about nine-tenths of the "cheerful self denial" of the home usually falls to the lot of 
the "loving and faithful wife and mother." 

There is little danger that the spirit and beauty of Christmas giving will ever 
be overdone or outgrown, in its truest sense, but there is a danger in an increasing 
modern tendency to change the "blessedness of giving" into a burdensome obligation, 
due to social rivalry and other causes, which really have no part in the real spirit 
of Christmas-tide. 

To the thoughtful observer this tendency needs no further comment. The 
"home-message" which we wish to emphasize here should mean much to the loyal son, 
husband or father when the simple fact, as stated in the announcement, is brought 
home in its direct application to that "nearest duty". We quote: "Ten cents worth 
of cheerful self denial even,' day in the year, or twenty-five cents worth of the same 
manly privilege, will cover the annual cost of from two to five-thousand dollars life 
insurance in the Penn Mutual Life Insurance Company; a Christmas legacy to de- 
pendants reaching out to that other Christmas sure to come, — a Christmas gift out- 
lasting the life of the giver." 

If this "home-message" finds one responsive chord among the thousands of loyal 
sons, husbands, and fathers who read The Craftsman, the Open Door will con- 
gratulate itself upon having contributed a little thought-wave to make some home 
happier, not only for the Christmas present, but for some near or far off Christ- 
mas to come. 

From George B. Dimmick, First National Bank, Scranton, Pa. : "Allow me 
to congratulate you upon your handsome anniversary number. It is superb. I read 
with deep interest, Mr. Gustav Stickley's "Thoughts Occasioned by An Anniver- 
sary". That article would have won my heart, had I not been already yours. Suc- 
cess to The Craftsm,\n, and what it stands for! You are doing real missionary 
work among civilized heathens, and the field is large." 



ANOTHER One of the healthiest signs of the times is that the evolution 

HOLIDAY of manual training in schools and institutes has reached the home, 

SUGGESTION and is stimulating parents to encourage both boys and girls in the 
training and use of both head and hand, the Integral education 
which is a fundamental part of The Craftsman's philosophy of life. 

The old plan of giving the boy some cast-off hammer or saw, or a toy set of 
pewter tools to amuse himself with, is now a thing of the past. 

The mischievous boy is not necessarily a bad boy, but usually one who has no 
rational outlet for the employment of his activities, and he is indeed a dull boy who 
cannot be interested in the ownership and use of a kit of tools. With very little 
assistance on the part of his elders, his taste for things mechanical can be fostered and 
cultivated ; developing not only constructive abilit)', but ripening the thought pro- 
cesses and giving him a new interest in life. 

Among the timely holiday suggestions in The Cr.\ftsman's advertising pages, 
the Open Door finds a practical suggestion in the comparitively inexpensive "Tool 
Outfits for Home Use", manufactured by the well known tool makers, Hammacher, 
Schlemmer & Company of New York. There is really no more wholesome education 
or profitable amusement for an active, groxving boy than the use of tools, and a Christ- 
mas present of one of these handy and convenient cabinets, ranging in price from five 
to fifteen dollars, would make him happy, and afford him helpful companionship the 
year around. Particulars can be found by reference to the illustrated advertisement 
on page vi. 

From a home-builder, Pittsburg, Pa.: "I have been a subscriber to The Crafts- 
man for some time, and have been much impressed and influenced by its preaching and 
teaching of a love for the simple in the home and life. 

"I enclose a draft of a plot of ground on which I contemplate building a home, 
and about which I want to ask your advice, and get an estimate. 

"I want not only to have the house sustain some proper relation to the surround- 
ing country, but the immediate surroundings to also sustain proper relations to the 
house, and I am not qualified to plan this. The improvements will have to be on a 
modest scale, as I cannot afford a large expenditure of money." 

A REVELATION One of the latest and most surprising phases of modern 

IN WALL home-making illustrated in St. Louis was the demonstration of 

COVERINGS the new artistic and sanitar>' wall coverings, shown in Lotus 

Lodge in the Palace of Varied Industries. This unique and 
handsome summer cottage presented a practical representation of two recent evolu- 
tions in wall coverings now being introduced to the trade under the names of "Leath- 
erole" and "Sanitas". 

The challenging feature of both these new productions is the combination of 



the highest expressions of decorative art, with the sanitary safeguards of germ-proof, 
dust-proof, water-proof, moth-and insect-proof qualities, that command the endorse- 
ment of all who have time to think about the healthful, as well as the beautiful, 
environment of human lives in the home, the school-room, the office, apartment build- 
ings or public institutions. 

Leatherole is an embossed-cloth mural decoration, hand decorated, and very 
handsome, both in designs and colors. Its ornamentation varies through a range of 
more than three hundred stjdes, in high and low relief, imitation of tooled-leathers, 
tiles, and ever>' decoration suitable for any kind of a room, from a hotel cafe to the 
sitting-room of a simple home. 

Sanitas is a light-weight oil-cloth, made in tiles, plain colors, and printed effects 
in dull and glazed finish, in an almost endless variety of designs and coloring suit- 
able for any wall in the average home. 

Leatherole and Sanitas are both decorated in oil-colors which will not fade, hide 
all cracks in the wall, and are strictly sanitary in every respect. They are applied 
to the wall the same as paper, and, on account of the oil decoration and waterproof 
qualities of the material, they may be wiped off and kept free from dirt and grease. 
The manufacturers, the Standard Table Oil Cloth Company, 320 Broadway, New 
York, are now establishing agencies throughout the country for "Sanitas," while the 
headquarters of the Leatherole Company is at 142 W. 23rd St., New York. 

From Julia A. J. Perkins, Baldwinsville, N. Y. : "I do desire as the months 
go by to thank that Craftsman who is at the head of the delightful magazine. 
'Chips' I always read first and they grow into stately columns; these last ones told 
much, he finds his paradise in a bit of city park, a little grass, a few flowers; he 're- 
members it at night', and in the 'morning'. His life is 'solitary', he is 'poor' and 
pledged to 'labor'. As I read my eyes filled with tears, but when I had finished, 
I found him opulent beyond measure, and know that his 'wagon is hitched to a star', 
and this beleagured soul felt cheered and uplifted, better able to go on in the path that 
she must tread." 

LITTLE THINGS Good houses— yes— but most of all good homes. This 

OF THE HOME is the gospel The Cr-aftsman advocates. Home should 
mean more than a place of habitation. It should in a real 
way show forth the ideas and ideals of those whose home it is. How much depends 
on the so-called little things that add so much to the cheer and comfort of an indi- 
vidual room. Artistic door and window hangings — -simple in line and in execution as 
well, but charming one with a realization of their perfect fitness, each for its own place. 
The designs on pages xii., xiv., xvi. give but a faint idea of how delightful a pair of 
portieres can be, with the soft rich texture and color as a groundwork, and the added 
charm that needlework always gives. 



Then there are the table covers of linen, in a range of soft colorings that come 
from the washtub, fresh as from the loom — useful things, surely — artistic to a degree. 
Pillows — and what is a couch or window seat without them — colors or tones to go in 
every room — and what cleverer idea than to have them repeat in material, as well as 
design perhaps, the portieres in the room. 

The chief beauty of The Craftsman's needlework is yet to be told. You can 
do it. The designs are so simple as to be possible for all. The design is stamped on 
the material — the pattern for the applique and all necessary floss and linen will be 
sent you and every help in the matter of color combinations will be given. 

Fill your home with some of these individual touches — and as the holiday season 
approaches, perhaps there may be other homes that you can help to beautify as well. 

From Georgia F. Wood, Hedgesville, N. Y. : "The Craftsman is doing a 
great deal toward helping the American live a simpler life. I believe if the people 
would learn to see the beauty in simplicity, that there would not be so many eye- 
sores in country and town, in the shape of buildings, so often miscalled homes. 
Throughout the year I have known The Cr.aftsman, I have become a firm believer 
in the beauty of simplicity as expressed by the hands and thoughts of workers in 
The Craftsman's Shops." 

ARTISTIC The MASON Press, from whose works The Craftsman is is- 

PRINTING sued, is universally acknowledged to be one of the leading exponents 
of the return to the simple type effects of the early masters of the 
Printer's art, modified to suit modern conditions. Harmony and simplicity are the 
keynotes of its success — harmony in the judicious selection of paper and inks, and sim- 
plicity in the arrangement of the types — the result, a product wonderfully pleasing and 
satisfying to the eye. 

From an advertising point of view the commercial work produced from The 
MASON Press is unusually successful. Their work always presents an appearance in 
such good taste and harmony, that the best possible returns are always received by 
the business houses who place their orders there. 

These most gratifying results are not attained by chance, but like all artistic suc- 
cesses, by capable personal superintendence of detail. From the one whose guiding 
mind directs the artistic harmony of each production, to those who are entrusted with 
the proper carrying out of his ideas, all are imbued with that personal interest — the 
desire to do their best. The leading principle of The MASON Press underlying 
all else is, that quality of product should never give place to quantity; hence but a 
limited amount of work can be arranged for at any one time. Its workshop is of 
that ideal size where the proper amount of personal supervision can be given— so neces- 
sary a factor to the attainment of the best and most artistic results. 



From Horace W. Graves, Columbus, Ind.: "Each month of this year I have 
been enjoying the many good things j-ou have prepared in The Cr.\ftsm.\n. I am 
being entertained in a much more satisfactory manner than I had dared to hope for 
when I subscribed for the magazine last winter. In my correspondence witli you I 
spoke of my anticipation of receiving many helpful suggestions from the home-build- 
ers' department, and I have not been disappointed, I assure you. 

"I have also enjoyed greatly the articles on Manual Training in The Cr.-mts- 
M.AN Shops as the suggestions there given are sufficiently clear to enable me to make 
with my own hands, some of the furniture described. 

"Certainly, if every subscriber and reader of The Cr.-\ftsma.\' enjoys reading its 
pages as thoroughly as I do, you have much cause in being grateful, in the knowledge 
of having done at least a portion of mankind a favor." 

NEW RESULTS Mrs. AIsop Robineau is to be congratulated upon the re- 

IN GRAND FEU cent results obtained at her new Syracuse Art Pottery, in her 
PORCELAINS experiments with the difficult and delicate firing of grand feu 

porcelains, two examples of which are illustrated in the an- 
nouncement on page vi. 

As shown in the porcelain bowl in mat orange glaze, streaked with mat black, 
the decoration is almost exclusively in the modeling, revealing freedom, breadth of 
treatment and individuality; while the motif is from a primitive suggestion and is 
very artistic and satisfj'ing. 

The porcelain jardiniere in mat brown glaze running into mat metallic copper 
glaze, presents another rare and beautiful color effect with rich blending of tones. 

Mrs. Robineau with true pioneer spirit has shown real artistic instinct and pa- 
tience in achieving such charming results in this comparitively new American experi- 
ment in grand feu porcelains. 

It is pleasing to note that this artist-potter is meeting with equal success in the 
production of tiles, door knobs and other interior decorations in addition to her other 
products in vases and ornamental work. 

From Alice M. Rathbun, Chatham, N. Y. : "Congratulations are in order 
upon the appearance of the October Craftsmax. It seemed to me excellent in its 
make-up before, but the magazine is increased in attractiveness by the changes you 
have made." 

From M. Emma Roberts, Supt. of Drawing, Minneapolis Public Schools, Min- 
neapolis, Minn.: "The magazine grows in value constantly, and is of the greatest 
assistance to all of us, who are working in the same lines." 

From Mrs. J. A. Secor, Elmira, N. Y. : "I like The Cr-Aftsmax so much that 
I could not get along without it. It is a marvel in every way." 



INDIAN The readers who are interested in the artistic or Indian types 

NOVELTIES and Indian Basketry will find a further suggestion, quite appropri- 
FOR GIFTS ate to the holiday season, in the announcement of the Francis E. 
Lester Company on page xvii. of Hand-wrought Indian Pottery Loving Cups, Navajo 
Silver Spoons, and Hand-made Indian Rugs, any one of which would serve as a unique 
and pleasing Holiday Gift. 

A glance at the Lester Company's illustrated Catalog, which is sent free on ap- 
plication, will afford many helpful suggestions for those who are wrestling with the 
season's problem of what to select for the occasion, something out of the common 
place, and uniting usefulness and appropriateness within the limits of a moderate 

The Company makes a special offer for the season, at reduced prices, of their 
beautiful two-necked Loving Cups, made by the Santa Clara Indians in their famous 
lustrous pottery, their Pueblo Indian Rugs and their Navajo Indian Hand-wrought 

From Miss L. Boorman, Palmer, Mass.: "I enclose herewith my check for this 
amount, $13.75. The loose numbers of Volume 4, No. 6, and of Vol. 5, Nos. i, 4, 
5, 6, I return to you in two packages by mail this day. In sending the bound vol- 
umes to me, please note that the American Express Co. is the only one doing busi- 
ness in Palmer, Mass. 

"I trust that I may find as much enjoyment in the four volumes of The Crafts- 
man as I have in the monthly numbers sent to me, beginning with Volume 6. 

"Wishing you continued success with your beautiful magazine, which I will take 
great pleasure in showing to my New York and Philadelphia friends who are to visit 
me this summer, I am." 

THE STANDARD A good dictionary, like a "thing of beauty" is a joy for- 

DICTIONARY ever. Its usefulness is measured only by the way in which it 

responds to the demands made upon it. It is ready ever>' 
time you rely upon it. If a friend paralyses you with a new "slang" term which 
falls upon your ear with forcefulness, it is a great test of a dictionary's thoroughness 
and up-to-dateness if it tells you all about that new, though slang, word. 

We do not estimate our Standard Dictionary, published by the Funk & Wagnalls 
Company, of New York, highly simply because it has never yet failed us in slang 
words, but that it is thorough and complete, comprehensive and up-to-date in every 
department of human knowledge. If you are wanting a first-class, reliable, complete 
dictionary, write to the publishers of The Standard for information. 

From J. D. Treadwell, Tuckahoe, N. Y. : "The magazine in its new form is 
easily the best of any in America to-day." 





This article was specially prepared for The Craftsman by Frederick Stymetz Lamb, who as one 
of the collaborators in this work, lias been connected with it from its inception to its completion. 

OME twenty years ago, Edward Everett Hale, in a 
speech in defence of American institutions, referred for- 
I t/^K, 1 ^^S^ critics to our schools and hospitals. Had that 
h^^Jrn speech been made to-day, libraries, both public and pri- 
^1 1 ^ I j vate, would undoubtedly have been included in his state- 
ment; for in recent development no one factor plays a 
more important part in the education of a community than the Li- 
brary. The history of this institution is interesting. Private collec- 
tions of books were early placed by public spirited citizens at the serv- 
ice of the people. Later, these became the nucleus of larger and more 
important collections. The scheme of the circulating library was 
introduced, and, in our larger cities, great public libraries are the out- 
come of this development. 

At first, the accommodations were inadequate. Small space and 
poor light were the inevitable accompaniments of the private library 
placed at the disposal of the public. So true is this that even at the 
present day, in Europe, many of the more important collections of 
books are still poorly housed. Modern advance in general has called 
for an equivalent advance in this special development, and to-day we 
find the Public Library not only a question of importance to each and 
every community, but a problem of serious thought and study for our 
architects and designers. 

Not only have we specialistic libraries in connection with special- 
istic schools, popular circulating libraries for the poorer sections of 
our cities, but we have, as well, great monumental libraries, which 
possess the most complete collections that can be obtained. Where 
new buildings have been erected, these buildings have often been 
made the excuse for the creation of monumental architectural struc- 
tures, fittingly embellished. 

It is needless to remind the readers of the Congressional Library 
at Washington, of the Public Library at Boston, and of the great Pub- 
lic Library now building in New York, or of the hundred and one li- 
braries constructed, or in the course of construction, throughout the 

AH Illustrations used in this article arc the property of J. and R. Lamb, New York City. Copyright 1904 



United States. These buildings have not only exerted a tremendous 
influence in the use and the dissemination of good literature, but have 
often, as architectural entities, materially influenced for the better the 
locality in which they have been placed. This influence is so wide- 
spread and so greatly appreciated that no city improvement is con- 
sidered, or city plan projected, without the public library being con- 
sidered as an integral part of the enterprise. 

W^TERTOWN is to be congratulated upon its recently com- 
pleted building, the Flower Memorial Library. It is to be 
congratulated, not only upon the munificence of one of its cit- 
izens, but upon the long and persistent crusade waged by its citizens in 
favor of this idea. The want of a public library in that city was long 
felt. The need and value of such a building had for years been pre- 
sented through the press to the people of the community. The 
churches took, part in the discussion, and patriotic and civic organiza- 
tions were not far behind in endorsing such a praiseworthy undertak- 
ing. It was in 1900 that the movement took definite shape, and, 
through the persistence of public spirited citizens, a subscription was 
started, entertainments instituted, and every effort exerted to create 
the public opinion necessary to make such a movement a success. The 
result was obtained in perhaps an unexpected way, through the mu- 
nificence of one of Watertown's most prominent citizens. 

Mrs. Emma Flower Taylor, through her generous gift to the city, 
has placed her name on the long roll of American women who have 
done so much to advance the education and refinement of this country. 
Her generous offer, modestly made, was accepted with gratitude, and 
on April 8, 1901, a public meeting expressed the feeling of the com- 
munity as follows : "At a mass meeting of the citizens of Watertown, 
held in the City Opera House to-night, presided over by Mayor Por- 
ter, and addressed by clergymen of various denominations and promi- 
nent citizens, your proposition for a library was unanimously ac- 
cepted, with grateful appreciation." 

The proper committees were appointed, competition instituted, 
and the commission for the building placed in the hands of the suc- 
cessful architects, Orchard, Lansing and Joralemon. 

The structure is in the Grecian style of architecture, having many 
Roman features adapted to modern requirements. It is massive and 






dignified, and characteristic of the man in whose memory it is built, 
and whose generosity can never be forgotten by the citizens of Water- 
town. The work has been developed under the watchful care of Mr. 
A. F. Lansing, who added to professional enthusiasm the interest of 
a private citizen. 

Later, in the development of the work, Mr. Charles R. Lamb, of 
New York, a decorative architect, was associated. It was he who 
planned the interior scheme of color and the decorative detail. No 
one could have brought to this work a richer experience. Beside the 
decoration of many religious, civic, and private buildings, one of the 
most notable of which was the Chapel at Cornell University, in which 
he designed the entire embellishment of the "Sage" Memorial, Mr. 
Lamb achieved distinction in the arrangement of one of the most im- 
portant exhibitions of sculpture, given under the auspices of the Na- 
tional Sculpture Society. At a later date he showed the country at 
large what could be accomplished by composite effort of artistic abil- 
ity, in the Dewey Arch, erected by New York for the return of the 
victorious navy, and which, since its erection, has stood as a concrete 
example of what can be done by a proper centralization of artistic 

It is true that, in the Memorial Library, form was not the only 
problem, or sculpture the only medium of expression; but the princi- 
ples developed in these previous experiments were equally applicable 
to the use of color, whether as mosaic, or as mural decoration. At the 
dedication of the building, the designer thus formulated his creed: 

"Nature is the oldest historian, but in man's efforts to record the 
progress of the ages, the artist is distinctly the earliest of all his- 
torians; for, before letters were, the artist drew, the sculptor carved, 
and the architect built. The artist, the historian of the earliest ages, 
the inventor of the picture forms which afterward became steno- 
graphically the alphabet of later civilization, and the type forms of 
the modern printing press (in spite of the great development of the 
hieroglyphics which we now call books), shows in his picture writ- 
ings those things, those ideas, those ideals which the written, or the 
spoken word but suggests. It is therefore fitting that art should be 
asked to cooperate with architecture in the creation of a library such 
as this Memorial, and the cooperation of the arts with literature is 
therefore most appropriate." 



How can a building begun with so much public enthusiasm, and 
executed under the guidance of such sentiment be other than a suc- 

On entering the library, visitors, after passing through the heroic 
doorway of wrought iron and bronze, and the mosaic vestibule, find 
themselves within the central rotunda with its magnificent combina- 
tion of marble and color. Directly in front is the Stack. Room ; while 
at either side, are the corridors, finished in marble and wood with ac- 
cents of colored decoration, leading to the North and South Reading 
Rooms. The marble flooring, relieved under the dome by the signs 
of the Zodiac, as bronze inserts in the pavement, extends along the 
corridors, and into the main reading rooms. It adds a sense of sta- 
bility not usually found in buildings of this character. The North 
Reading Room is large and spacious, with a paneled ceiling in rich 
relief. The finish is, in the main, of wood, low and quiet in tone. 
Book-shelves at convenient heights, wainscote the walls, while the 
main points are accented with constructive, or color decoration. 
Here is to be found the interesting painting of the "Open Book:" a 
seated figure of the mother surrounded by her children. Mrs. Lamb 
has been exceedingly fortunate in the color scheme, and the picture, 
with its decorative composition, forms a fitting focus for the elaborate 
design. In the spandrel above, and repeated at the opposite end of 
the room, is a rich foliated treatment, with tablets bearing the names 
of the great writers from classic to modern times. As a whole, it is 
a fitting interpretation of the quotation that "Knowledge is the only 
good." The color scheme in the room is rich and restful, while the 
important fireplace in marble, enriched with mosaic, gives an added 
touch, and the visitor has nothing to deflect his attention from the 
books which he is seeking. 

The South Reading Room, at the opposite end of the building, is 
a counterpart in size and architectural treatment. Here, the color 
scheme is slightly different, verging to blues and greens, and the great 
spandrels are filled with the conventional treatment of the vine, upon 
which are placed the bookmarks of the early printers. The Refer- 
ence and Librarian's Rooms are adjoining, and harmonize in their 
color tonality. 

To the right and the left of the main entrance hall are the Conver- 
sational Rooms, and, on the same floor, is to be found the Children's 



1 ^ WW 


STAIRCASE HALL : mural i>aixtixg (south walli. -Tirst public commemo- 

THE STAIRCASE HAEL : mii;\i. r \int]ni; (north wall), "cc).\FiiRE.\<K be- 




Room, a beautiful memorial to one of the donor's children. Utility 
has not been sacrificed to beauty, for no small portion of the area on 
this floor is devoted to the Stack Room; simple and dignified, with 
little or no embellishment, it explains in a glance of the eye, its pur- 

Leaving the main floor, we mount by staircases at the right and 
left of the main entrance, to the mezzo floor, and face, on each stair- 
case, the able decoration from the brush of George W. Breck: on the 
north wall, the conference between De la Barre, governor of Can- 
ada, and the Representatives of the Five Nations, which was held at 
La Famine Bay, Jefferson County, September 3, 1684; and, on the 
south wall, the first public commemoration of the Declaration of In- 
dependence in Jefferson County, which was held at Independence 
Point, July 4, 1802. These panels, low in tone, and studied in draw- 
ing, will convince the most skeptical of the artistic possibilities of the 
historic subjects to be found in great number among the early records 
of our country. 

At the head of the staircase, on the west wall, are to be found por- 
trait heads of the Chief Garonkonti, and the Chevalier Champlain. 
The wide expanse of the walls of the north and south halls is clever- 
ly relieved with decorative panels by H. Peabody Flagg, of the Battle 
of Lake Erie, and the Battle of Sackett's Harbor. One is forced to 
admire the virility of these canvases, and the clever way in which ap- 
parently impossible subjects are adapted to decorative treatment; 
while every detail is minutely portrayed with historic accuracy. The 
critical part of each battle is explained by engraved diagrams, which 
show the exact point of the battle selected. Thus the historian and 
the artist are equally pleased with the result. 

The north hall leads to the room dedicated to the Daughters of 
the American Revolution. The spirit of "Words pass as wind, but 
when great deeds are done, a power abides, transferred from Sire 
to Son," is fittingly portrayed in the decorative frieze illustrating the 
buildings of the early settlers. From the house of Count Le Roy 
Chaumont, to the La Farge Mansion, we have records of the families 
which have made the history of this section. Passing through a 
small room devoted to the clergy, we enter a spacious apartment in 
which we find the buildings of Old Watertown : the State Arsenal, the 
first corn-mill, the Merchants' Exchange, the old Coffeen House, and 



many others, recalling to the minds of the inhabitants the history of 
their town. 

It is but a step to the open Pergola, built over the Stack Room ex- 
tension, which crowns the roof garden, with its flowers, vines and 
marble fountain; a resting place for those who wish to interrupt their 
studies for a moment. 

Leaving "Old Watertown," we pass through a small room for the 
use of the medical profession, and enter the last of this series, which 
is to be devoted to the uses of the Historical Society. Again, the deli- 
cate scheme of color is relieved by a decorated frieze containing 
buildings and historic places. Here are the buildings erected by Eli- 
sha Camp and Commodore Woolsey. Here is a monument to the un- 
known soldiers of this vicinity killed in 1812. Here are the Madison 
Barracks, Fort Pike, Sackett's Harbor, and the old Ship House, 
where were built the ships employed in the battles on the lakes, re- 
corded in the canvases of Mr. Flagg. From description it is impos- 
sible to realize how deftly those simple subjects have been made the 
theme for an artistic success, for which the brothers Leon and Scott 
Dabo are distinctly responsible. 

It is needless to say that the main decorative efifect has been re- 
served for the rotunda, simple and massive in its architecture, beau- 
tiful and harmonious in its color. In its combination of marble, gold, 
and pigment, it stands the central and most attractive feature of this 
most interesting building. The marble and bronze of the lower part 
are left rigid in their simplicity, the heavy moldings at the base of the 
dome are perfectly simple in their color, and the richness of the 
scheme is concentrated in the dome above. 

Here, a problem of no small difficulty met the designer: a great 
expanse of wall surface was to be decorated without destroying the 
simplicity of the whole. But four accents were used. These, placed 
at the main axes of the building, personify History and Romance, 
Religion and Science, and they, in turn, are separated by intermediate 
figures of Fable and the Drama, Lyric and Epic Poetry. The first 
group in almost mediaeval costume, is executed in a deep and rich 
tonality. The second group, more classic in detail, is given a lighter 
and intermediate color. The upright lines are further accentuated 
by a decorative treatment of repetitive trees, and are united by folia- 
tion which extends completely around the lower portion of the dome, 







acting as a background to the figures and a connecting link in the color 
scheme. The question of scale has been carefully studied, and the fig- 
ures, although but life-size, are ample to make the entire scheme emi- 
nently satisfactory; while the delicate but rich skylight, the eye of the 
dome, sheds a warm glow over all and gives that sense of rest so essen- 
tial in such a building. 

From this description it will be seen that all decorative themes 
used are either literary, or draw their artistic inspiration from local 
data. The Watertown Public Library is unique, in that every his- 
torical embellishment is a record of something of importance to Jef- 
ferson County. It was a daring thought of the designer to establish 
such restrictions for artistic inspiration, but the result justifies the 
idea. With this in mind, one may truly feel the truth of the state- 
ment as made by the editor of the Watertown Times, who is the chair- 
man of the Building Committee: 

"The building stands complete in everv particular. To say that 
it is one of the finest libraries in New York State, in fact, in the United 
States, is in no wise an exaggeration. The Flower Memorial Li- 
brary, just dedicated, is one of the most beautiful libraries in America, 
and stands as a permanent tribute to the great man who is now dead, 
but whose remembrance remains with hundreds of residents of this 
city, gracious, ennobling, inspiring and priceless." 

Editor's Note: As with characteristic modesty Mr. Frederick S. 
Lamb has barely mentioned in his article his own mural paintings in 
the dome of the Flower Library, it is only simple justice to describe 
them at greater length. But in this case justice becomes a thing of 
secondary importance, since the paintings are most essential to the in- 
terior as a whole; the dome occupying a large portion of the space, 
and the success of the paintings assuring a fine general effect, just as 
their failure would have marred the ensemble beyond repair. 

Mr. Lamb's success is well worth recording, since the treatment 
of dome decoration has been one of the most difficult problems set be- 
fore artists since the time when Michelangelo painted the figure of 
the Eternal Father in the lantern of St. Peter's at Rome. In such 
cases, the laws governing the composition of easel pictures become 
null, while mural painting on flat expanses is easy in comparison. 



The curved surfaces of the dome seen from below, present peculiar 
difficulties of perspective and foreshortening, which must be over- 
come mathematically, in such a way that the proportions and action 
of the figures will present a natural appearance from the angles of 
sight. These difficulties of drawing and composition are united with 
those of the use of color; as too light a scheme will render the decora- 
tions feeble and insipid, while too dark a key will create, as it were, 
an inverted abyss, a black funnel apparently suspended over the head 
of the spectator. 

Fortified by the study of all the famous dome decorators from the 
old Italians to Paul Baudry, the greatest modern master of foreshort- 
ening, Mr. Lamb has proceeded to his results in the most scholarly 
manner; at the same time showing no affectation or pedantry, making 
no irrelevant display of technical brilliancy, but handling his compo- 
sition architecturally, and, to borrow the words of Mr. La Farge, con- 
structing in color. 

It is most interesting to trace the development of the structural 
process by which this decorative scheme is actually built. And as 
one studies the scheme, one can not do otherwise than recall that su- 
preme example of architectural decoration, the ceiling of the Sistine 
Chapel; feeling sure that our modern American artist has given it 
profound and profitable study, since his own work reveals, although 
in a freer, simpler and less imposing style, the hand of a master 

It may not be idle to compare for a moment the older and greater 
with the newer work; for, always in such parallels there is some point 
of critical knowledge to be gained. In both cases, the sky is taken for 
the background against which to display the imagined scene; but 
while the earlier master adopts the human figure as the unit of con- 
structive ornament, the later artist witnesses a feeling for Nature, 
such as could not have been conceived by the old decorators. In a 
truly modern spirit, the plant becomes in Mr. Lamb's work a struc- 
tural element, serving at once to mark and to bind together the dis- 
tinct sections of the decoration, just as on the ceiling and vaulting of 
the Sistine Chapel the youthful male figure is used as a modulating 
chord with which to harmonize and unify the separate subjects. 

The trees used by Mr. Lamb as his structural unit, rise from the 
base-line of the painting with straight and slender boles. They di- 



vide the dome into eight panels, and, at a certain height, send out deli- 
cate foliation which forms an almost semi-circular line above the 
head of each human figure, fills the upper portion of the concave sur- 
face, and, in the words of the artist himself, gives "a miniature dome 
feeling to each of the panels." 

These upright elements are balanced by the horizontal lines of the 
thick foliation introduced also to prevent the figures from silhou- 
etting too strongly against the background of the sky. They are fur- 
ther modified by an intermittent entablature upon which are inscribed 
the names of the symbolic figures. The horizontals, carried com- 
pletely around the dome and emphasized in both the upper and the 
lower portions, preserve the dignity, stability and severity of architec- 
tural form, and render the decorative subservient to the structural 
scheme, as should always be the case. 

To this eflfort toward unity of composition Mr. Lamb has added 
an equally successful attempt in color-balance; thereby attaining a 
whole which contrasts most favorably with certain famous ceilings in 
European buildings, in which figures thickly populate the surface, 
flying, dancing and posing; showing a constant change of scale and a 
disregard for color-balance which create an unhappy impression of 
restlessness and instability: the opposite of the efifect in the Water- 
town Library, where one part has been arranged to dominate another, 
and balance between the color spots is maintained. 

As to the colors themselves, they recall the combinations of Titian, 
although the orchestration is fuller and more subtile, as is possible in 
modern handling; they witness also the long experience gained by 
Mr. Lamb in his treatment of painted windows. The orange-tree, 
which appears in the thick horizontal band of foliation, serves him 
with its firm leafage and its fruit in making admirable color-notes; 
while a persistence of delicate violet tones is felt throughout the whole 
scheme: at times blushing to warm pinks, and mounting to even 
stronger accents, as in the draperies of the principal figures; a deep, 
rich red appearing in the robes of the figure symbolizing Religion. 

This figure, chosen as our frontispiece, again shows the scholarly 
tendencies of the artist who conceived it. It is worthy of the times 
of the great mosaicists, whose grand manner it recalls, without los- 
ing that freshness of conception which marks it as an original work. 
It is beautiful and majestic, and stands among worthy companion 
figures. 397 


A WORD of appreciation yet remains to be given to the mural 
painting by Mrs. Ella Condie Lamb, known under the title of 
"The Open Book." In this picture the artist has emphasized 
the central thought of the American Public Library: namely, that 
here the book is accessible to all, as differing from the book chained 
to its place in the mediaeval library, and from the closed book seen on 
the seal of many of the old universities; while the group gains fur- 
ther importance, stability and symbolic meaning from the older boy 
and girl, who, posed on either side like supporters in armorial bear- 
ings, indicate that the book is free to both sexes. In the background, 
the blue hills, the upright trees, and other details suggest the scenery 
at Fiesole, the seat of one of the most famous old world libraries, and 
by this delicate touch of Italianism the picture is given a refinement 
and suggestiveness conducive to the quiet and calm which should 
spread over all who enter a Library; making it a place of refuge from 
the fatiguing American life of the street, the office, and the shop. 

AT the present moment, when the movement toward all forms of 
civic improvement and municipal art is so active and compel- 
ling, the address of President Schurman of Cornell University, 
delivered at the dedication of the Flower Memorial Library, comes 
as the voice of a leader, to organize, direct and unify the enthusiastic 
effort which waits but to be governed. And nowhere could his words 
more fittingly find echo than in a publication like The CRAFTSMAN. 
Accordingly, certain of these eloquent utterances are here quoted, as 
defining clearly the meaning and significance of a great enterprise 
devoted to the diffusion of knowledge. 

"In the first place, since the mind is the man, anything that en- 
larges the mind, trains its powers, or gives it new insight into things, 
fits the man the better for doing the everyday work of his calling. 
The mechanic or day laborer may here find some magazine or book 
which reflects a ray of light upon his daily job and enables him to do 
it with greater facility or efficiency. Many an invention owes its ori- 
gin to the thought of a mechanic, and that thought was stimulated by 
reading and reflection. When everybody else failed to stretch wires 
for the transmission of telegraph messages, a mechanic named Ezra 
Cornell, who up to that time had spent his days as a wage-earner and 
his evenings as a reader of journals of practical science, came forward 




and did the impossible; whence emerged, in time, a fortune for the 
workman and a new and great university for the State of New York. 
If the American workman has hitherto been the best paid workman in 
the world, it has been due largely (though not exclusively) to the facf 
that he is the most intelligent workman in the world. It is the busi- 
ness of the free public library, in common with the public school, to 
maintain and develop that intelligence. And this can be done most 
effectively in terms of the workman's life and daily experience. 
Books dealing with these practical matters will appeal to him, and in 
response to their influence he will become a larger man and a better 

"In the second place, this library should be a source of recreation 
and refreshment. Men, women and children can not work all the 
time. I do not join the stern censors who denounce novel-reading as 
wasteful or injurious. On the contrary, I think the novel is that form 
of literature which brings to-day the greatest happiness to the great- 
est number. Furthermore, I obsers'e that even trashy novels culti- 
vate a taste for reading; and when that taste has been developed, it 
will crave better sustenance than the babe's milk with which it began. 
However the details be adjusted, the library must be recognized as 
a place for mental recreation. It is, in this respect, to the mind what 
the public park is to the body. And both, be it remembered, have 
to compete with a saloon which furnishes pleasures of a coarser 

"The intelligent librarian will recognize, too, that as history is 
past politics and politics present history, men who would fit them- 
selves for the most intelligent e.xercise of citizenship must acquaint 
themselves with the history of other countries and the development 
of republican institutions under other conditions. 

"Lastly, a free public library is an institution for the culture of 
the people. Thus all sides of the complex nature of man — from the 
economic to the spiritual — are focused and embodied in this library, 
which in turn has the high function of nourishing, training and de- 
veloping them all, if so be you may attain to the stature of a more per- 
fect manhood." 



ONTINUING our attention to the subject which af- 
fords our title, we come more and more to realize the 
importance of setting before children examples of good 
form and color. We recognize that we should preserve 
unformed minds and undeveloped senses from the con- 
tact of the vicious in art as well as from the vicious in 
morals; raising before them ideals of the beautiful and the true, to 
the end that they may ignore and despise the ugly and the evil. 

It would seem further that the same methods should be pursued 
in building character and in educating the aesthetic faculties: that the 
object in each case, should be to surround children with good influ- 
ences; at the same time, to develop their judgment by careful training 
and explanations; by indicating to them qualities to be admired and 
errors to be avoided; by proving to them the value of certain objects 
and results, and the consequent worthlessness of their opposites. 

The force of good example and influences is recognized almost to 
the point of a cult in the moral \yorld. It is no less just that it should 
be acknowledged in the world of art. But there, it is, as yet, for the 
most part, honored only tacitly, even ignorantly; since we constantly 
find the results of such example and influences treated as the outcome 
of some fortunate chance or miracle. To illustrate this point we 
might say that a child who, in the public schools, shows a high sense 
of honor, who is refined in manner, or correct in his use of English, is 
remarked at once as one who has enjoyed cultural advantages in his 
home; while the child who displays taste and accuracy in drawing, is 
too liable to be regarded as a sporadic case of talent. But were the 
latter instance judged with the same insight and logic as the former, 
distinct and continuous influences would be recognized as the sources 
of the happy result. The artistic ability of the child in question need 
not have been fostered in an atmosphere of luxury. His parents may 
be poor people, or, at least, persons whose lives and necessities have 
given them small opportunity for acquiring a knowledge of art in its 
accepted sense. But investigation will show some strain of family or 
racial blood, some tradition of order, cleanliness, and appreciation of 
beauty to be the underlying cause of the child's development. Na- 



ture does not proceed by leaps, but rather by slow and even steps, 
whose traces are as discernible in the immaterial, as in the physical 
world, where they are imprinted in stone, the most imperishable of 
substances. The son of a gardener or of a joiner, the daughter of an 
expert laundress, may inherit ability, which on new surroundings, is 
translated into a new form of expression; for the school can do noth- 
ing but make active powers which already exist in the latent state. 

It is evident that the closest relations should exist between the 
home and the school, the one supporting and supplementing the ac- 

tion of the other. But such a condition is far from prevailing, and 
can only be regarded as a distant ideal, toward which to direct our 
course. Still, the ideal is more than worthy of the attempt, and, al- 
though it be elusive at times, it always remains concrete and well- 
defined. To-day, the average school room is far from being the 
place of beauty that it should and can be made; while the home, in 
too many cases, is but a whirling eddy of opposing currents of life, too 
confused, too unstable to serve as a place of development. Trained 
educators there must be in the schools, who have made a comparative 
study of systems, and are in position to recognize and to employ the 



best. But these educators must be aided by the parents and elders of 
the children: persons who, although without great technical knowl- 
edge, more than compensate this lack by their interest and sympathy; 
who, so to speak, prepare for the educators the crude mental material 
which they are to shape into usefulness. And in both preparation 
and shaping much respect should be had for the material; no quality 
of it should be perverted, and no portion wasted, or lost. Enthusiasm 
should govern the work, and the system be made sufficiently elastic 
to fit individual children, whose faculties now, without the visible 
fault of any one concerned, sometimes are cramped, or again are 
strained to fit the merciless rack of a plan adapted to average cases. 
The more prosaic and positive studies must not be disturbed from 
the important place which they occupy in the school course, but room 
must also be made for art, as the most powerful means of beautifying 
life; as the means also of largely assuring the happiness of the men 
and women of to-morrow. But the most desirable results to be ob- 
tained from this study are not the ability to recognize the "historic 
styles," the authorship of a statue or picture, or even the power to copy 
by pencil, brush, or modeling-tool more or less well, or yet to make 
attempts in original work. ' The best of all is the power to feel, to 
judge, to take advantage of simple means; through this power, de- 
veloped in the child, the poor home will become more cleanly, order- 
ly and attractive, the middle-class home less ugly, and the luxurious 
home more simple and refined in its elegance. The appreciation 
of art is not shown, as a recent French writer has well remarked, by 
having a few pictures upon one's walls and a few bibelots upon one's 
chimney-piece. For often the presence of such objects testifies to the 
lack of taste of their owners; while the real love of art is displayed in 
the choice of the form, color, and arrangement of the objects devoted 
to the daily uses of life. The eye insistently demands aesthetic grati- 
fication; so the trained and experienced must select that gratification 
for the untrained and the undeveloped. Vigilant care constantly ex- 
ercised by parents and primary educators over their charges, can not 
fail to produce important results, growing out of what would seem 
to be trivial precautions. Instances of successes so obtained might 
be adduced in great number, if space allowed, but one case in point 
may be mentioned as a typical example. This occurs in a municipal 
ordinance of Florence, Italy, which provides for the preservation and 



the education of the musical sense of the people by subjecting all in- 
struments to be played in the streets to a rigorous test of pitch. Such 
an illustration goes to prove that the success of an enterprise or object 
is furthered by carefully watching over that w^hich is ordinary and of 
frequent occurrence; from this again the inference may be drawn that 
to attempt the extraordinary is not only to use means whose effective- 
ness is unassured, but it is also to bring those in whose behalf the 
measure is taken, in contact with the unfamiliar, and so to retard their 
progress. It can not be too strongly insisted that art for the child 
should consist in common things translated into pictorial terms; the 

essentials of the presentation being simplicity and correctness of prin- 
ciple. To offer to the child's mind complexity of form is like plac- 
ing before him an involved problem in mathematics, when he is bare- 
ly capable of adding and subtracting. To set before his eye false 
drawing and badly combined color is to vitiate his perception of beau- 
ty, as surely as his musical sense would be debased, were he habitually 
to listen to instruments falsely pitched and discordant one with an- 

To choose then expressions of art which shall at once gratify and 
develop the very young is a difficult task; since few masters have cre- 
ated from the child's point of view, the same as comparatively few 



writers have reached the child's heart, and appealed simply and 
strongly enough to the developing imagination — that first of all fac- 
ulties to be awakened: stating the essential only, and leaving the detail 
to be supplied by the young mind, which struggles for experience, as a 
fledgling bird tries its wings in the inspiring air of spring. That 
which is simple in lesson, story, or picture, leaves, as it were, space 
which the childish mind can animate with dream-people and fanciful 
circumstance, constantly changing to suit its changeful moods; while 
that which is complex discourages the child from the first, repels him, 
and denies play to his imagination. 

The masters in art able successfully to portray children, have al- 
ways been and are now much less numerous than the corresponding 
writers; most of the portrait-artists, justly celebrated for their "fair 
children," having presented solely picturesque external charm; while 
a painter like Mile. Breslau, capable of sounding the soul of the child, 
of recording its bitter griefs and its ecstatic happiness, arises scarcely 
once in a generation. 

But these geniuses, although choosing children as their subjects, 
appeal to their equals in understanding and experience. They can, 
therefore, be understood as forming a larger class even than those 
who, from the child's point of view, yet with a master's power, deal 
with the things of art. 

Among these distinguished few, the French painter and illustrator 
Boutet de Monvel, occupies a unique place, which, it may be said in 
passing, is not one of his own choosing; his desires always pointing 
him to a more ambitious field of labor. And yet the Biblical ex- 
planation of the nearness of heart and treasure was never clearer and 
truer than in his case. His sympathy with children has been life- 
long, having been awakened in his early home, in which, as the eldest 
of an exceptionally large family, he was called upon to watch and 
tend, to direct and arbitrate. It is said that no irritable baby ever re- 
fused to be soothed by him, and that no older child ever denied his 
power to attract and amuse. He thus unites qualifications which 
come from the heart and can never be supplied by the intellect, to a 
high degree of technical skill, accompanied by that peculiarly French 
gift of "style," which the rest of the world envies. This last, perhaps, 
is a result of subtile penetration into the essence of things, a seizure of 
what is characteristic and individual, a subordination of all else to the 


one vital and personal principle. At all events, this would seem to be 
true in the case of Boutet de Monvel, whether we form our judgment 
from the study of his works, or accept his own recorded testimony, 
which, as a piece of art criticism, valuable to educators and students, 
is worthy to be widely known. In explanation of his methods as an 
illustrator, he has written: 

''Having at my disposition a means so limited (that of the pen), I 
have learned that there is one all-important element which we must 
seek in everything which we would reproduce, and which, for want 
of a more definite word, we may call the soul, the spirit, of the object 
represented. A rude stick, planted in the ground, has a particular 
character and interest of its own, and if we make of it a drawing 
which is commonplace, it is because we have failed to grasp its spirit. 
No other stick would have the character which belongs to this par- 
ticular one, and that which is true of the rude stick, applies the more 
as we ascend the scale of creation. This is the lesson taught me by 
the necessity of expressing much with the encircling line of the pen, 
and everything is there. In comparison with this sense of individual 
character in anything which we try to represent, all else is unimpor- 

Such clear statement of truth, expressed in the artistic language of 
line, forms no doubt largely the basis of the attraction residing for 
children in the art of Boutet de Monvel; since sincerity is always rec- 
ognized by them and its opposite quickly detected. Little critics, in 
turning the pages of a picture-book illuminated in more senses than 
one by the designs of this master, feel that they are playing with real 
children: merry, mischievous, active and wilful — in all points like 
themselves. They see the spirit of childhood made visible in a few 
lines and touches, and they respond to it, as they would, were it mani- 
fested in actual life — in the street, the school, or the nursery — instead 
of being confined to the printed page. In the past, the child has been 
robbed of adequate representation in art, and it would now seem as 
if the French master and several of his contemporaries — among whom 
maybe named the portrait artists, Sargent, Mile. Breslau and Cecilia 
Beaux- — had arisen to right a great share of the wrong. As we cast 
our glance over historic art and literature, we are surprised at the 
small part held in either by the child. Among the Greeks, with 
whom the idea of harmony reached a cult, child-life was simply an 



imperfect stage of existence, in which the mind was immature and the 
body unsymmetrical. During the Middle Ages, the worship of a 
single Divine Child spread over the world, but in all His visible pre- 
sentations to the people He was given maturity and sadness of counte- 
nance as a symbol of coming suffering. In the art of the Renascence 
the child was a winged genius, a type without individuality, an orna- 
ment, pure and simple, scarcely more important than the bird figuring 
in the arabesque, or the flower in the garland. Delia Robbia indeed 

portrayed the bodies of children so truthfully that they appeared al- 
most capable of walking, but this was the work of the skilled anato- 
mist, comparable with that of a class of old Greek sculptors who ren- 
dered the human frame perfectly — bone, muscle and adipose — while 
they left the head without a mark of personality and equally well 
adapted to all statues of a single type. Perhaps Sir Joshua Reynolds 
may be noted as the first artist to seize and render the pathos of child- 
life; not as he expressed himself in "Penelope Boothby" and other 
portraits of children favored by fortune, but rather in his "Robinetta" 
and his "Strawberry Girl," who show the pinch of poverty and the 



want of love. Still, it remained for the age of kindergartners and so- 
ciologists, for the age of capital, with its sharp distinctions between 
working people and people of leisure, to understand, portray and ap- 
peal to the child. 

Among such artists none has embraced with a more sweeping, 
sympathetic glance all sorts and conditions of children than Boutet de 
Monvel. In his portraits he renders to the life the imperiousness of 
the household pet; sometimes veiling the tyrannical quality with soft 
persuasiveness, as he does in the full-length portrait of the toddling 
daughter of Mme. Rejane, the actress, in which a gesture of the 
chubby hand is more eloquent and accurate than a whole volume of 
detailed description. 

In his illustrations he is less cosmopolitan than in his portraits, and 
therefore consistent in his treatment; since it is said that racial char- 
acteristics tend to disappear in high life, while they persist with great 
tenacity among the people. The boys and girls of the illustrations 
are thoroughly French: the boys ranging through the entire scale of 
the gamin and the polisson; the girls showing in the very outlines of 
their figures something of that patient endurance and submission 
which characterize the humbler daughters of France. But, if in 
spirit they are thus national and consequently somewhat restricted, as 
drawings, they pass all limits of style and mannerism, standing as 
models of action and expression stripped of superfluity, showing the 
utmost economy of means and the maximum of effect. If we examine 
only the picture-books illustrated by the French artist, we shall regard 
him as a master of comedy and caricature ; but if we pass on to the his- 
tory of Jeanne d'Arc and the humble romance, "Xaviere," we shall 
find him to be master of that sweet and simple pathos of rural life to 
which the French alone have the key. His spirit is revealed in the 
dedication of his Jeanne d'Arc, when he writes: 

"Open this book with reverence, my dear children, in honor of the 
lowly peasant girl who is her country's patron saint, as well as its mar- 
tyr. Her history will teach you that in order to conquer, you must 
have faith in the victory. Remember this in the day when your coun- 
try shall have need of all your courage." 

Once again it can not be too strongly insisted that M. Boutet de 
Monvel unites in himself the qualities of heart, brain and hand neces- 
sary to produce the master; consequently, that his drawings are fit to 



be offered to children as their daily artistic food. They can not fail 
to be instructed by his faultless line, by his delicacy of execution, his 
vigor and grace. They will be unconsciously inspired by his ac- 
curacy and ease; interested and charmed by his indication of a turn of 
a head or wrist, by the way the little figures stand on their feet, march 
or dance. Older critics will observe, in order to discuss, the delicate 
outlines filled in with flat tones of color, sometimes subdued and deli- 
cate, at others, gorgeous in wealth of strong primary tones, and ap- 
plied with the precision and daring of a Japanese. But these fine 
points will not fail of their refining influence upon children, whose 
artistic sense, nourished and developed by such principles, will after- 
ward reject the false and the complex, in favor of this simplicity 
which is so difficult to attain, because it approaches perfection. Nor 
will the lessons be lost, even if they are presented in black and white; 
since the French illustrator adjusts his scale of light and shade so deli- 
cately that the absence of color is scarcely felt. 

In view of these qualities so admirably developed and so useful in 
an age when art is so necessary, we should be glad of the painful ex- 
periences described by M. Boutet de Monvel, when he writes : 

"I went from publisher to publisher in search of orders for illus- 
tration, but in vain. I was thoroughly discouraged, when I received 
a 'Child's History of France' to illustrate. Afterward, came some 
work on a French edition of St. Nicholas. I had never before drawn 
or painted children, but I did then." 

So, as in the majority of instances, the artistic success with which 
we are here concerned, grew out of pressing material needs; while 
certain exquisite qualities were developed under the requirements of 
mechanical reproduction, in allusion to which the artist again writes: 

"I aimed at methods of drawing which should come out well 
when my pictures were printed. I advanced by a process of elimina- 
tion and selection. I came to put in only what was necessary to give 

In the pursuit thus described, accuracy of line, strength, and style 
were early possessed by the illustrator, if they were not his already at 
the beginning of his struggle. But the one point which long con- 
quered him and still longer threatened his success, was his tendency 
to over-blacken his shadows, as was natural for a pupil of Carolus- 
Duran. Gradually, however, he freed himself from this, his great 


fault, by the use of the light tones and the unaccented silhouettes de- 
manded in the printed reproductions of his drawings. 

At last, he stood apart, higher than any of his compatriots in a spe- 
cial field of work, interesting and fertile. Yet, with true human per- 
versity, he was not content. His aspirations were those of a portrait 
painter and mural decorator, in both of which capacities he has at- 
tained distinction, particularly in the latter, through his scenes from 
the life of Jeanne d'Arc, painted on the walls of the church at Dom- 

remy, the Norman village which was the birthplace of the virgin mar- 
tyr. But it is always true that man proposes and God disposes. The 
mural paintings, sympathetically conceived, finely grouped and exe- 
cuted, the portraits of adults, remarkable for their grace and distinc- 
tion, will not be M. Boutet de Monvel's highest claim to remem- 
brance; since that resides in his incomparable rendering of children 
and child-life from the point of view of the subjects represented: 
work executed with a simplicity, gratifying alike to the ingenuous 
whom elaboration does not yet attract, and to the experienced who 
have rejected it as useless and insignificant. 



IN the interest therefore of the art movement which would extend 
mural decoration to the school-room and the nursery, and for the 

reasons already advanced, a number of adaptations of the draw- 
ings of the French illustrator are here presented. As may be learned 
by comparison, four out of the five pictures are either only slightly 
changed from the originals, or are combinations of two drawings; 
while the remaining one is an original composition remotely sug- 
gested by a ship-frieze which occurs among the earlier drawings of 
the artist. 

The first decoration, intended for the walls of a school-room, is a 
line example of what may be called constructive design. It is liter- 
ally built of lights and darks, and represents architecture as fully as if 
it were possessed of the three required dimensions. Its rhythm and 
balance resulting from a happy combination of the most simple ele- 
ments, produce upon the eye an impression similar to that experienced 
by the ear at the sound of a rich, full musical chord. Its structural 
qualities should be explained to the children whose school-room walls 
it may decorate, as an example of the economical use of artistic means. 

The second decorative scheme, equally appropriate to the home 
and the school, is intended as an elementary lesson in the development 
of the sailing vessel. Beginning at the right of the picture, one sees 
an outline model of the Viking boat, now preserved in the University 
of Christiania, Norway, and supposed to be similar to the one in 
which Leif Ericsson landed on the shores of New England, fully a 
thousand years ago. Its swelling keel, so made to increase the 
strength of the boat and its steadiness of motion, shows the beginnings 
of the yacht which, in its latest development, is seen at the end of the 
series, at the left of the door; the intervening vessels being the "Santa 
Maria" of Columbus, according to the model owned by the Spanish 
Government, and a merchant ship of the seventeenth century belong- 
ing to the Germanic marine guild, or Hansa. From these notes it 
will be seen that the forms employed are authentic, and, that in this 
case, truth lends its self easily to the picturesque. 

The soldier-frieze, only slightly changed from the Boutet de 
Monvel drawing, differs from the latter principally in showing sol- 
diers of various nationalities, instead of the original French figures. 
It proves that the humorous may reside in line alone, as may be 



learned from the swinging rhythm of the feet, which needs no com- 
ment to excite the laughter of children. 

The sheep frieze, designed for a girls' nursery, with its suggestion 
of quiet, and its elementary indications of different levels, will please 
the young occupants of the room, especially by its crude conventions 
of hill and valley, which are the same as they would adopt in their 
own drawings. 

The illustration chosen to complete the series is one in which the 
simple outlines are softened by the attitudes and gestures common to 
musicians. By reason of this variety and undulating quality, it is 
fitted to serve in a child's bedroom, where it will invite that fixed at- 
tention which is conducive to rest and sleep. 

1—1 1—1 I— I ■-Y:cg7c-,.-.jj '^^ "•TKf . WcH Hult>l ~ I7/^nce. *> Preu^i: 



T is to William Morris, beyond all question, that the world 
owes its recent awakening to the spirit which should animate 
all labor. This man was one of the powerful prophets of the 
nineteenth century. His life was as truly an awakening as 
that of Peter the Hermit, and his influence strong for the 
welfare of humanity. 

Of William Morris, poet, teller of weird tales, illuminator, 
painter, decorator, church restorer, craftsman, socialist, reformer, we 
have had much and good writing — articles in magazines, pamphlets 
and books innumerable. 

Yet, except to a limited number, Morris, upon the human side, is 
almost unknown. It is, therefore, as a man that I now wish to pre- 
sent him. Necessarily I shall have to touch somewhat upon the va- 
ried work in which he was engaged, as no life can be considered apart 
from its labor; but I shall refer to it only as it serves to explain the 
personal character of my subject. 

The casual reader, looking over the list of Morris's activities re- 
jects the idea of his being a simple man. And even critics have 
recorded that if he erred at all, it was because "in his eagerness to 
create the beautiful, he lost sight of the value of simplicity." 

Yet I wish to show that his versatility, instead of being an evidence 
of complexity, is really a proof of his simplicity. For instance, he 
believed in the dignity of labor, and equally in the joy of the laborer, 
which can only exist when his work is artistic and beautiful. To give 
a practical coordination of these two beliefs it was necessary for him 
to be artist or designer, and artisan or maker. Hence, he never de- 
signed a piece of work in his office that he could not go out into his 
shops and make. 

What was his need for going into business at all? To all outward 
appearence, none whatever. He was born well-to-do, and with care 
of his inherited fortune, he could have lived a life of luxury and ease. 
But he looked upon life much too seriously for that. Manhood with- 
out work was impossible, hence his determination to be an architect. 

It is interesting and instructive to see what led him to this decision. 
As a child he had ridden about the country, making rubbings of 
ancient brasses found in the old churches, and studying the buildings 


Emma Lazarus, who saw Morris in 1 886, thus describes 
him: "We saw framed against the black background of 
one of the upper windows, the cordial face and stalwart fig- 
ure of William Morris, clad in a dark-blue blouse. Before 
we had alighted he was at the gate to receive us, welcoming 
us with his great, hearty voice and warm hand-grip. 'The 
idle singer of an empty day' might sit for the portrait of his 
own Sigurd. He has the robust, powerful form of a Ber- 
serker, crowned with a tall, massive head, covered with a 
profusion of dark, curly hair plentifully mixed with gray. 
His florid color and a certain roll in his gait and a habit of 
swaying to and fro while talking, suggest the sailor or the 
yeoman, but still more distinctly is the poet made manifest 
in the fine modeling and luminous expression of the features. 
An indescribable open-air atmosphere of freedom and 
health seems to breathe from his whole personality." 


themselves; so that at sixteen years of age he was well versed in the 
archaeology of the neighborhood. He carried on these same studies 
at Marlborough, and his reading for the Church made him familiar 
with some of the finest descriptions of the ancient buildings of the 
world. Ruskin's "Stones of Venice" had further awakened his love 
for architecture; his first holiday out of England was spent in Bel- 
gium and Northern France, where he fell in love with those poems in 
stone, the churches of Bruges, Ghent, Antwerp, Amiens, Beauvais 
and Chartres; nearly four years he passed in Oxford with the wealth 
of its ancient buildings always in view ; and, finally, he was roused 
by the destructions under the name of "restorations" in progress 
throughout the country, which, as a professional architect, he felt that 
he might have some slight influence to prevent. 

But before he left the University to become an architect's appren- 
tice, the Brotherhood was organized, the life and power of which 
show better than any comment can do the real character of the lads 
who composed it. What the Brotherhood was is too well known to 
need explanation here, but I cannot refrain from commenting upon 
the difference in the spirit shown by him and his comrades from that 
of many of the young men and women in college to-day. How often 
do we find Morris's earnest, all-absorbed spirit, his determination to 
profit by opportunities, his resolution to work for the highest and the 
best, and for that alone! 

In Morris, as a young man, there were certain qualities which 
challenged immediate attention. They were prominent features in 
his make-up which could not be overlooked. Of these things let us 
now take a careful survey, and see how they were manifested in his 
later life. These prominent characteristics are three in number, 
namely: he loved beauty, he loved humanity, and whatever he did he 
did intensely. His love of beauty is shown in everything that he did. 
He studied architecture because he loved the glorious old churches 
and other buildings of England and, later, of the world; he wrote 
poetry and did it well because he loved a beautiful story well told; 
all his craftsmanship came from this same devotion to the beautiful. 
As for his love of mankind. Canon Dixon, in speaking of the college 
days of the "set" to which he and Morris belonged, plainly states that 
this love of humanity was a passion in all of them: "We all had the 
notion of doing great things for man." 



In his relationship to his workmen, in his passionate pleas for true 
art as the only possible pathway to the happiness of the worker, 
finally, in his chivalric devotion to the cause of socialism, he justified 
his professions and practically laid down all selfishness at the shrine 
of his love for the downtrodden and distressed. 

And now, for a clearer comprehension of his life, let us look at the 
spirit of intensity he showed toward everything in which he became 
interested! This intensity was instinctive and unconscious with him. 
He possessed it as a child. This is seen from the fact often noted that 
he never forgot, or confused with any other, a landscape, building, 
flower, or other object he had once seen. He was fond of certain 
athletic sports, chief of which was fencing with the single-stick. 
When he engaged in this exercise he was so impetuous that it was not 
an uncommon thing for a table to be placed between him and his 

Another characteristic manifestation of this intensity, and also a 
proof of his determination to respond quickly to the highest spiritual 
demands, was that, when he had lost his temper, had failed in some 
evident duty, he would beat his own head fiercely with his clenched 
fist, and deal himself vigorous blows, to "take it out of himself." 

It was this intensity of nature which made him do everything de- 
cisively, whether well or ill. He burst into poetry suddenly, and 
when his work was read to his critical friends, they all pronounced 
it: "a thing entirely new, founded on nothing previous, perfectly 
original, whatever its value, and sounding truly striking and beauti- 
ful, extremely decisive and powerful in execution." . . . "In my 
judgment," writes one of them, "he can scarcely be said to have much 
exceeded it afterward in anything that he did." 

This same spirit led him to do things thoroughly. As a lad of 
sixteen he visited a Druidical circle and took notes upon it. The 
next day he was told of something which he had not observed ; so 
straight he went back, made new observations and secured the 
needed information. 

This positive directness led him to hate everything vague, whether 
in art, poetry, politics, architecture, color, or speech. It was this 
quality of mind which led him to resign his treasurership in the Na- 
tional Liberal League; to lose patience with the rich customer who 
came to see his "subdued" carpets; which compelled him to become 



weaver, dyer, and cabinet maker. Vagueness, to him, was immoral. 
In later life he taught in one of his lectures: "Be careful to eschew 
all vagueness. It is better to be caught out in going wrong when you 
have had a definite purpose, than to shuffle and slur so that people 
can't blame you, because they don't know what you are at." 

Such was his strong protest against lukewarmness. Yet, while 
believing in positiveness, he did not countenance obstinacy. This 
quality he showed even in his hesitations before uniting himself with 
the Socialist movement. Concerning this he wrote: "I am in rather 
a discouraged mood, and the whole thing seems almost too tangled to 
see through and too heavy to move. Happily though, I am not bound 
either to see through it or move it but a very little way; meantime I 
do know what I love and what I hate, and believe that neither the 
love nor the hatred are matters of accident or whim." This intensity 
of nature was further demonstrated in his great power of concentra- 
tion. He was able so to fix his attention upon a given subject as to 
master it in a time that to other men seemed impossible. For the mo- 
ment, the one subject completely absorbed and dominated him. As a 
natural complement to this faculty, he was gifted with versatility; 
for the latter is but natural capacity, made effective by concentration. 
Morris's intense nature made this the simplest thing in the world. 

He was always sufficient to himself. Even as a boy at school he 
cared little for companions. How could a man so intense in his na- 
ture be sociable with men who were more interested in frivolities than 
in truth ? The very intensity of his nature prevented such waste of his 

When a thing displeased him he showed it with characteristic 
vehemence. Once, as the director of a certain corporation, he was 
persuaded into wearing a silk hat; but at the end of his directorate, 
he walked rapidly home, put down his hat and, with evident pleasure, 
sat on it. 

Concerning his calm way of regarding his tempests when they 
were over, he writes in one of his letters: "I lost my temper in the 
dye-house for the first time this afternoon; they had been very try- 
ing, but I wish I hadn't been such a fool; perhaps they will turn me 
out to-morrow morning, or put me in the blue-vat." 

He was direct in speech. He did not aim at style or fine diction. 
Strong thought, strongly expressed, is what we find in him, and this 



quality reveals a virile nature, ruled by essentials rather than by re- 
finement and culture which are secondary. In speaking of the bene- 
fits of a knowledge of the history of the Decorative Arts, he called his 
period "a time when we so long to know the reality of all that has hap- 
pened, and are to be put ofif no longer with the dull records of the bat- 
tles and intrigues of kings and scoundrels." Here he uses a word 
which we all have felt, but have never cared to use. But he, with 
simple directness which values truth first, states it, in its force; so that 
the reader gains a new grasp upon the vanity of calling that "history" 
which deals mainly with the waste of human life and energy made by 
many of the rulers, statesmen, and warriors of Europe. 

As an example of his simplicity of statement I quote from his lec- 
ture upon "Art and Its Producers": "Shall we pretend to produce 
architecture and the architectural arts without having the reality of 
them?" He then answered: "To adopt this plan would show that 
we were too careless and hurried about life to trouble ourselves 
whether we were fools and (very tragic fools) or not." 

It was this spirit which made him obnoxious at times to those who 
did not understand him. Who is there that cannot understand his im- 
patience, when the lordly customer came to look at his carpets, and 
wanted the neutral colors which came from an unclean dye. "Are 
these all?" "Yes!" "But I thought your colors were subdued?" 
"Subdued? If you want dirt you can find it in the street!" And, 
turning on his heel, he left the astonished customer to find his way out 
of the shop. 

Morris was incorruptibly honest. He did not believe in "restor- 
ing" ancient churches, cathedrals, abbeys, castles and the like. He 
contended that they were too valuable as historic examples to be 
spoiled by meddling. If they were needed for actual use, it were 
better to build another structure, than ruin what should be the un- 
touched legacy of the past. One profitable branch of his business was 
the designing and making of colored glass windows, so often needed 
in the restoration of old buildings. Yet so inflexible was he in his 
principles that he refused many commissions, because he would not 
violate his conscience and, for pay, do the work which his artistic 
instinct told him was wrong. 

But it is particularly to his love for humanity, as shown in his 
never-ceasing efiforts to dignify labor, and his passionate devotion to 



the elevation of the laborer himself that I want now to call the atten- 
tion of my readers. 

With Morris the man was everything; convention, fashion, show 
nothing. The world was made for man, and everything must yield 
to his interests. Like Browning, Emerson and all the great poets and 
philosophers, the world meant nothing without man; therefore, he 
was alert to see that man got the best there is from the earth. 

When he saw his fellows slaving and toiling for a mere pittance, 
when he saw commercialism making of human beings nothing more 
than machines, and every good and noble thing in manhood sacrificed 
at the shrine of mammon, his very soul was roused to rebellion. See- 
ing the awful demoralization which possessed many of the working 
men of England, he sought, with characteristic energy, to discover the 
cause. His conclusion is summed up, practically, in one sentence: 
"If I were to spend ten hours a day at work I despised and hated, I 
should spend my leisure, I fear, in drinking." 

He was about t\venty-two years of age when the social condition 
of the lower classes forced itself upon his notice. It must be remem- 
bered that he was a true aristocrat, not in blood, but in education and 
feeling. Many a born aristocrat is a boor and snob, but here was a lad 
with all the sentiments and ideals which we associate with the term: 
"a part of his very nature." Price — his student friend "Crom" — 
knew all the conditions and felt them, and, through his profound sym- 
pathy, Morris soon felt as he did. Here is what Price writes: 
"Things were at their worst in the forties and fifties. There was no 
protection for the mill-hand or miner — no amusements but prize- 
fighting, dog-fighting, cock-fighting, and drinking. When a little 
boy I saw many prize-fights, bestial scenes; at one, a combatant was 
killed. The country was going to hell apace. . . . We could not 
make short cuts to school without passing through slums of shocking 
squalor and misery, and often coming across incredible scenes of de- 
bauchery and brutality. I remember one Saturday night walking 
five miles from Birmingham into the Black Country, and in the last 
three miles I counted more than thirty lying dead drunk on the 
ground, nearly half of them women." 

It is easy to see that when these facts fully entered Morris's inner 
consciousness, his intense nature was awakened to action. Something 
must be done and done speedily. With the same impetuosity that 



made him so powerful a reader, so fierce an opponent at single stick, 
so devoted a student of old churches, he plunged heart and soul into 
the work of social regeneration. And how nobly he rose to the need. 
It was nothing to him that others of his class stood by indifferent. He 
took upon himself, with sublime self-effacement, the burdens of the 
common people. There are at this time a simplicity, a dignity, a 
power in his words which make them intensely pathetic: 

"As I sit at my work at home, which is at Hammersmith, close to 
the river, I often hear go past the window some of that ruffianism of 
which a good deal has been said in the papers of late. As I hear the 
yells and shrieks, and all the degradation cast on the glorious tongue 
of Shakspere and Milton, as I see the brutal, reckless faces and figures 
go past me, it rouses the recklessness and brutality in me also, and 
fierce wrath takes possession of me, till I remember, as I hope I mostly 
do, that it was my good luck only of being born respectable and rich 
that has put me on this side of the window among delightful books 
and lovely works of art, and not on the other side and the empty street, 
the drink-steeped liquor-shops, the foul and degraded lodgings. 
What words can say what all that means? Do not think, I beg of you, 
that I am speaking rhetorically in saying that when I think of all this, 
this great country should shake ofif from her all foreign and colonial 
entanglements, and turn that mighty force of her respectable people, 
the greatest power the world has ever seen, to giving the children of 
these poor folk the pleasures and the hopes of men. Is that really im- 
possible? Is there no hope of it? If so, I can only say that civiliza- 
tion is a delusion and a lie : there is no such thing, and no hope of such 
a thing. 

"But since I wish to live, and even to be happy, I cannot believe it 
impossible. I know by my own feelings and desires what these men 
want, what would have saved them from this lowest depth of sav- 
agery: employment which would foster their self-respect and win the 
praise and sympathy of their fellows, and dwellings to which they 
could come with pleasure, surroundings which would soothe and ele- 
vate them; reasonable labour, reasonable rest. There is only one 
thing that can give them this, and that is art." 

Morris saw that there was no alternative: either art must sweeten 
man's labor, or labor will render man a machine. It is a fact not to 
be ignored that in all work in which man has no pleasure he has de- 



generated. Ruskin's aphorism is true: "Life without industry is 
guilt, industry without art is brutality." This was the constant bur- 
den of Morris's plea : "I wish specially to point out that the question 
of popular art is a social question, involving the happiness and misery 
of the greater part of the community." Again: "Popular art has no 
chance of a healthy life, or, indeed, of a life at all, till we are on the 
way to fill up the terrible gulf between riches and poverty." 

In the opening of his Sigurd the Volsung, Morris sets forth what 
to me is a poetic and ideal condition of labor : 

"There was a dwelling of kings ere the world was waxen old; 

Dukes were the door wards there, and the roofs were thatched with gold; 

Earls were the wrights that wrought it, and silver nailed its doors; 

Earls' wives were the weaving women, queens' daughters strewed its floors, 

And the masters of its song-craft were the mightiest men that cast 

The sails of the storm of battle adown the bickering blast." 

Here is the dignity of labor presented with power. Here is the 
reality of poetry never better set forth. Morris was driven to his po- 
sition that we must make useful things beautiful by the stern necessity 
for work. "For man must work," whether he will or not. Even 
though machines are invented for doing everything, and doing it in 
the simplest, quickest and least costly way, there is still work to be 
done which men must do one for another. How, then, shall this be 
accomplished? Grudgingly, slavishly, hatefully? Nay, let us find 
a better way; and that way, said Morris, is by putting art into it, and 
thus finding pleasure in doing it. 

"Time was when everybody that made anything made a work of 
art beside a useful piece of goods, and it gave them pleasure to make 
it. That is an assertion from which nothing can drive me; whatever 
I doubt, I have no doubt of that. And if there is anything in the busi- 
ness of my life worth doing, if I have any worthy aspiration, it is the 
hope that I may help to bring about the day when we shall be able to 
say : 'So it was once, so it is now'." 

For years he worked toward these ends, and it was in the hope of 
urging on the happy day he longed for, that he became a socialist. 
At first, he felt that only by a social revolution could the change come 
about, and the devotion he showed to this apparently hopeless cause is 
most pathetic. As he said: "I could never forget that in spite of 
all drawbacks my work is little else than pleasure to me; that un- 
der no conceivable circumstances would I give it up even if I 



could. Over and over again have I asked myself why should not 
my lot be the common lot? My work, is simple work enough; 
much of it, nor that the least pleasant, any man of decent intelli- 
gence could do, if he could but get to care about the work and its 
results. Indeed, I have been ashamed when I have thought of the 
contrast between my happy working hours and the unpraised, unre- 
warded, monotonous drudgery which most men are condemned to. 
Nothing shall convince me that such labor as this is good or necessary 
to civilization." 

Many who have appreciated Morris on all his other sides have ex- 
pressed their utter disapprobation of his socialism, and their inability 
to understand why so clear minded a man should have entered into 
so endless a conflict with co-workers so crude, so quarrelsome, so in- 
adequate to the strife. 

I now wish to show that his socialism was but the result of a com- 
bination of three influences within him. These were his story telling 
faculty (the vividness of imagination), his high hopes for humanity, 
and his artistic desire to do well whatever he attempted. His sym- 
pathies were roused: he saw the wrongs, the inequalities, he felt the 
sorrows, the pangs of the downtrodden and oppressed; on the other 
hand he knew the possibilities of joy, and his imagination, cultivated 
by years of story-telling, saw a new social condition in which sorrow 
and injustice should be done away, and justice and joy should take 
their places. If it was an unattainable dream, it showed an almost 
mother-like love for that portion of humanity which could not help 
itself. God give us more such dreamers with such a spirit! The 
leaven of their work will result some day in a better state of society, 
when men, in deed, and not in name alone, shall be brothers. 

And did he fail in his socialistic dreaming? Ask all the dreamers 
of the past, who have seen visions of highest good for the race. Did 
Moses dream in vain? Did David and Cyrus and Julius Caesar and 
Stephen Langton and John Wyclifif and Cromwell and George Wash- 
ington dream in vain? To the man who tries there is no such thing 
as failure either for himself, or his cause, 

"For thence, — a paradox 
Which comforts while it mocks, — 
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail?" 

Even though it seemed to fail, Morris's work for humanity suc- 
ceeded, is successful, and will continue to develop. 



THEORETICAL study of ornament can be very use- 
ful to the decorator; at the same time, it may interest 
the lay lover of art, by disclosing to him the laws of 
composition. It will further reveal all the difficulties 
which must be conquered by the designer. 

With the intention of fulfilling the valuable ends 
just mentioned, a selection of notes is here offered, drawn from an 
exhaustive preface written by M. Grasset for a volume of decorative 
borders recently published, which is destined to render the most 
important services to the public. 


Every border serves to bound a plain or a wrought surface, in 
order to emphasize its general form. When, as upon a vertical wall 
— for instance, that of an apartment — the border runs only above, 
near the ceiling, and below, directly over the baseboard, the decora- 
tive feature serves as a modulation leading to the ceiling, at one 
extremity, and to the moldings at the other. But when a border com- 
pletely surrounds a surface, as, for instance, that of a dish, it empha- 
sizes not only the edges of this object, but it may further constitute its 
only ornament; becoming then a true frame. 

The elaboration of the border is made proportionate to that of the 
ground; the former part always exceeding the latter in richness, and 
often projecting itself upon a perfectly plain surface. 

Generally speaking, the border consists of three parts: first, the 
field destined to receive the ornament and occupying the greater part 
of the space; second, the listels, which are rectilinear bands, simple 
or multiple, limiting the field on either hand, in the direction of its 
length. The listels placed at the exterior boundary of the field are 



more numerous, or more important, than those 
which define it against the ground, and take the 
name of talons. The talons are also called galons 
when they themselves receive decoration. 

But borders are not always enclosed between 
listels, and, quite often, especially when they are 
executed in painting, their inner portion, contigu- 
ous to the ground, need not be limited by these bands of enclosure. 
In this case, the principal field upon which the ornaments are dis- 
played, is the background itself. Only, if this solution were accepted, 
the border would show a disagreeable thinness, unless the ornaments 
were thickly distributed. Therefore, a background is carefully pre- 
pared in a tone approaching that of the ornament, which gives the 
required effect of solidity. For it must not be forgotten that the prin- 
cipal essential of a border is to bound and to limit sharply. Now, 
experience has shown that when the background is light, the field of 
the border should be dark, and that when the ground is dark, the field 
of the border should be light. This is a truth more often misunder- 
stood than one would suppose possible, and not seldom a superb border 
fails to produce an adequate effect, because this principle has been 
ignored in its composition. 


An important question lies in the sharp distinction which must be 
made between borders and friezes. The latter, in general, possess 
horizontal elements only, and can not be turned about. In a frieze, 
the artist is at liberty to use his imagination; but, if the reproduction 
of the frieze is to be executed by mechanical means, the adjustment 
of the parts must be kept in mind, and the subject chosen must not be 
so striking that its frequent repetition becomes fatiguing. On the 



contrary, it is preferable to adopt a certain similarity of surface, color, 
and effect, which scarcely reveals the recurrence of the motif at the 
point of juncture. 

Again, a distinction must be made between borders and verticals. 
As their name indicates, the latter can not be used except in a single 
vertical situation. Their composition precludes them from being set 
horizontally, or turned upside down. Their use, like that of friezes, 
is limited, and they can not be repeated in a great number of mechan- 
ical reproductions, except in the case of the walls of a room which, 
having a plain surface, may be decorated at fixed distances. These 
perpendiculars should be accompanied, at top and bottom, by one or 
two special borders with a defining listel or a joining motif deter- 
mining, in this instance, the width of the intervening spaces. 

''■•MlfiMn/ "S-^ ■V/J//JMS ^*'^ 


If friezes and perpendiculars are subject to no other conditions 
than those which have just been indicated, it is otherwise with the 
border. The latter, playing a more modest and more usual part, ful- 
fils its best use when it may be placed equally well, above or below, at 
the right or the left; having these characteristics, it may be called an 
indeterminate border. 

The composition of borders of this class is restricted in possi- 
bilities, although it can be effected in several ways : first of all, by the 
simple repetition of the same, or similar motifs, having no direction; 
but a very definite balance may be obtained by the alternation of 
equal motifs, if their axes are perpendicular to the two edges of the 
border, and if the motifs are symmetrical upon these axes. However, 
the motifs are not necessarily attached to the listels which limit the 



field, and it is possible to em- 

'(# ® (^ ® # ® ploy systems of juxtaposed 
_,^ ,^ -^ ^.^ V__\. ^"id alternate curves having 

no connection with the lis- 


tels. rurther, use can be 
made of a waved line, in the concaves of which may be 
placed motifs having no top or bottom; or an all-over 
«{TBu>( pattern may be employed, set in an order which is exactly 
repeated, as is shown in Figure VII. It is seen that the 
axes must always be perpendicular to the length of the border; then, 
the motifs placed upon the line B. C. (the axis) will be cut into two 
equal parts; the whole design being contained in the triangle 
A. B. C. A good example of reversible border occurs in Figure I., 
in which the floral design is equally efifective, if it be turned top down- 





Next to the borders ^ 
which we have just noted, 
alternating designs are the 
most practical, for the exact 
alternation of the motifs 
gives them a perfect equilibrium in a direction in which they appear 
to proceed, or rather, to run. 

If we consider regular and equal motifs placed upon oblique axes 
parallel to each other, their alternation will be perfectly balanced. 
These motifs viould. produce a reversible border, if the inclination of 
the axes did not occur in an opposite direction for the vertical and for 
the horizontal border; and, further, if account being taken of the 
exterior of the surface so bordered, the motifs were not ascending on 

' the right, and descending 

on the left, or vice versa, as 
is often the case. 

Contrasted oblique axes 
will give the same re- 
sult, whether the lines are 





Straight oa curved. (As an 
example of the first condi- 
tion, see Figure XI.) In the 
balance of a subsequent fig- 
ure, there is noticeable a line 
or movement, of which the 
festoon is a tvpe. (Figure 

IX.) This line can be materially absent, and yet make its presence 
felt beneath very thick ornaments, composed simply of alternate 

In borders of this kind, if the listels are equal and there is no 
talon, it will be possible to place them at the right and the left of the 
space to be framed, under the form of ascending motifs having the 
same direction. The two horizontal directions may then be the same, 
or thev may be opposite, as is indicated in Figure XIV. 

To a certain degree, 
these alternating borders 
may be made similar to 
those of the reversible class, 
if care be taken to balance 
the principal elements up- 
ward and downward; the 
attachment only of the mo- 
fi/j will then proceed in a non-reversible direction, and the less visible 
the attachment, the more available will be the border. Thus, if in 
Figure III., the upper border is a good example of alternation, we 
must not forget that it demands a symmetrical opposing motif, because 
of a black ground filled above and exteriorly to the left. But noth- 
ing would be easier than to treat the other side similarly, so as to be 
able to place the design horizontally or vertically, without having 
recourse to its symmetrical correspondent. In the case of a border 
upon paper hangings, it ___________-____________^^ 

would be easy to turn it up- 
side down, upon its axis or 
axes, in the middle of the 
panel to be bordered, and 
thus to obtain a perfectly 
balanced effect. 






Alternating borders can 
therefore have their motifs, 
either grafted upon the two 
listels, as in Figure XII., 

FIGURE X r \ r • 1 

or formed of juxtaposed 
curves (Figure VI.), or again, of modulated curves (Fig- 
ure VIII.). But it is preferable to dissimilate as much 
as possible the course of the movement, in order that the 
design may be easily reversible. (Figure XIII.) 


Beside alternating borders, there are unilateral designs which in 
themselves form a characteristic division. Of the latter two prin- 
cipal classes may be distinguished: those which, composed like the 
alternating borders, vary the alternated motif, and ofTer balance suffi- 
cient to make them easy to use; and those in which the two borders 
differ greatly in importance and composition. The latter are 
reversed to the right, if they run to the left; but the effect may be 
corrected by the addition of opposing motifs. 

A large proportion of unilateral borders may be reversed without 
injury to the design, upon condition that the side destined to edge the 
ground be always turned toward the latter. But, as borders are not 
always applied to vertical walls, there are cases in which a unilateral 
design is not only permissible, but rather required, as is true of bor- 
ders upon plates, tables, table-cloths, and the like. 

If the unilateral border becomes such that it can be placed only in 
a single position, it is then a frieze properly speaking, and re-enters 
the class first treated in the present article. 


True diagonal borders are less frequently used than others, and 

are designed especially for ___________________>- ______^ — 

execution in painting (Fig- 
ure XV.). In such render- 
ing, the stencil pattern can 
be reversed for a diagonal 
border having an opposite 
direction. But the inclina- 





tion must be the same, for if 
there is a vertical motif, as 
in Figure XV., this condi- 
tion becomes necessary; but 
if, on the contrary, the mo- 
tif is composed of a single 
pattern, the inclination, as 
well as the inversion, is ineffective. But all alternating borders 
may be used as diagonal patterns: the latter being specialized only 
by the presence of vertical motifs. 


Any straight border can be easily adapted to a circle by a change 
which slightly contracts its inner side. A necessary precaution is to 
establish the whole number of divisions within which each rnotif or 
unit will be contained, and if there are alternating borders, there must 
be an even number of divisions; so that the adjustment may be 
normal, unless the two alternating motifs are contained in a single 
division. This observation has its usefulness, when both sides of a 
stencil plate are used. It must be noted also that each circular sur- 
face to be bordered, requires a stencil-plate adapted to its radius. 


The question of the angle is one of the most difficult existing in the 
entire subject of borders. The problem varies, according as the 
border is composed of two separate designs, symmetrical one with the 
other, or again if it be simple, and run in a single direction. The 
first problem is very easy to solve; the second is much more difficult, 
but, at the same time, of much greater commercial importance. 

A principle resulting from experience, requires that the angle 
motif of a border be more important than that of the running por- 
tion, and that the angle 
be accentuated exterior- 
ly: a precaution without 
which the border would 
have no character. ^ 

In commercial designs ____.«._.,i«_>_«..««»__«_.»_----------- -————- 

which demand economy figure xm 






of drawing, the problem becomes somewhat difficult. If we con- 
struct a regular motif upon an oblique axis, in an alternating or a 
unilateral border, there will be a difference in the breadth of the back- 
grounds which separate the motifs of the border from the ornament 
of the angle, as is shown in Figure X., in which the void H is noted 
as larger than the void G, and the angle motif no longer appears to 
belong to its border. The best means to employ is to incline the move- 
ment of the supports of the angle motif in the same direction as those 
of the running border, attempting to provide the angle with motifs 
proportionately stronger and more numerous (Figure IV.) . 

It is useless to formulate any rules concerning borders without 
fixed direction, since they can be cut at any point between two units 

of design; the only essen- 
tial condition being that 
similarity of form shall 
exist between the angle- 
motif and the units of the 
sides. An observation ap- 
plicable to all borders, 
concerns especially those 
showing an ornamented 
background, the which 
must adjust itself also to 
the background of the 
angle, without leaving 
the juncture visible. 
In designs subjected to mechanical reproduction, sometimes a spe- 
cial case occurs. This is when the ground and the border are woven 
separately to be adapted to each other in dififerent lengths and widths. 
In this case, if the border is very ornate and quite broad, it will be 
composed of two principal and different motifs, repeated at short and 
regular intervals, and arranged so as to adjust themselves together at 
an angle of forty-five degrees; thus forming a new motif composed of 
the two halves of the other two. The place of the motifs is regulated 
by the width of the breadths of the background material, which can 
include one or several, and the adjustment of the angle is thus always 
exact. These two motifs can be designed with the greatest freedom, 
on condition that a line at an inclination of forty-five degrees, in a 



direction symmetrical for each of them and bisecting them, allows a 
perfect adjustment. The background will be occupied by running 
ornament subjected to the same rule. Here, the limited space at our 
disposal forbids us to establish an exact formula regulating the dis- 
tance between the two motifs; but the beautiful antique oriental 
borders, composed of large animal motifs, are the best models from 
which modern art can seek its inspiration, although it must express 
itself in new formulas. Further, in antique art, which 
has produced so many marvels, we find splendid 
examples of borders in which all the principles 
which we have barely indicated, attain full 
development. For this reason, any de- 
signer wishing to create something 
comparable with the old work, 
must have studied the 
latter thoroughly and 
patiently sought 
the beauty 

s m orien- 
ery simple 
most pa 
belonging to the alternating system, we 
note the use of a festoon rather simple in detail with somewhat wide 
motifs which cross at the curves and prevent a too easy reading of the 
plan. When these motifs are derived from animal forms, viewed 
from the long side of their silhouette, the directions of their lines are 
put in opposition, in order to produce a satisfying balance. 

Beyond this richness, there remains a more modest field to be culti- 
vated. This is that of pure ornament, too much abandoned to-day 



for exact natural forms, which quickly weary us, because they permit 
no play of fancy. These considerations appear very ambitious for 
simple borders, but they apply to all departments of decorative art. 

Finally, a fact plain to all decorators must here be noted: namely, 
that a design must be accurately adapted to the material in which it is 
executed. For example, decorative glass, incrustation, repousse, 
require numerous "simplifications"; while sculpture and painting 
demand enrichment; stamping and weaving require strict conditions 
of execution and economy for a repetition of the same motifs; while 
the sculpture of frames and tapestry-weaving allow a variety limited 
only by the proper balance of lines and of motifs. 

The tapestries of the Renascence period and of the seventeenth 
century have bequeathed us the finest borders ever designed, and it 
would be difficult to surpass their sumptuous effects. These borders 
are often composed of great garlands of flowers, mingled with the 
most pleasing ornament; at other times, the flowers are mingled with 
figures, which form motifs at the angles. But always there is observ- 
able a regular repetition of the same masses in which all the details 
are different, while the centers, above and below, are occupied by 
special motifs designed to receive inscriptions. It is evident that, if 
such borders can serve as models for painted decoration, they are not 
adaptable to industrial purposes. 

The subject which we have here treated is susceptible of ample 
development, but in the present article we have taken but a succinct 
glance at the laws governing the composition of borders; limiting 
ourselves to the most essential conditions. 

— From Art et "Dicoration, for No'vember, 1904. 



N colonial days, household utensils of pewter ware were in 
common use in this country, and perhaps would still be, but 
for the introduction of cheap forms of pottery, glass, Ja- 
panned iron, etc. Britannia metal, too, and German silver, 
are also in part responsible for the general disappearance 
of pewter ware. In Japan, pewter objects were made as 
early as the eighth century, and the first record of the industry there 
is referable to the reign of the Empress Shotoku, at which time pewter 
vases and other objects were made from native tin. Still more an- 
cient was the introduction of pewter into China, although the actual 
date is not known. In England, France, Germany, and Switzerland, 
the pewter industry rose to its highest importance during the four- 
teenth, fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, and even as early as the time 
of the Plantagenets, pewter chalices were used in some of the English 

Before considering the early history of this industry in England 
and the European countries, where it undoubtedly reached its great- 
est importance, a glance at the introduction of the manufacture of 
pewter objects into the United States may be of interest. It hap- 
pened at the time when wooden ware was in common use here, and 
this it largely displaced, although not a few handsome pieces are still 
to be found in New England country houses. Their number would 
doubtless be much larger, had it not been for the discovery that new 
pewter is much improved by mixing the metals of which it is com- 
posed with a certain amount of old pewter which, therefore, has al- 
ways commanded a high price. 

In the seventeenth century, there was a considerable exodus of 
English pewterers to this country, conspicuous among whom were 
Richard Graves, who established himself in Salem, Massachusetts, 
and Henry Shrimpton, who afterward became one of the prominent 
merchants of Boston. The Massachusetts colonists gave employment 
to these craftsmen, whose number increased steadily until the War of 
the Revolution, when the importation of Oriental and English china, 
and stoneware soon began to tell upon the pewter industry. All kinds 
of objects had been made from pewter, including cans for holding 
beer and cider, basins, cisterns, and ewers for parlors, etc. Candle- 



sticks of pewter were common, too, while "savealls" were made of 
both pewter and iron. Many of the colonists used pewter salt-cellars, 
spoons, plates, platters, and porringers. 

The popularity of pewter in those days, is further evidenced by 
the fact that men occupying high positions often became noted for 
their collections of pewter ware. Thus Washington's mess-chest and 
camp outfit contained a number of pewter articles; Governor Brad- 
ford of Massachusetts left to his heirs fourteen pewter dishes and thir- 
teen platters, three large and three small plates, a pewter candlestick 
and a pewter bottle. Governor Benedict Arnold, of Rhode Island, 
and Mr. Pyncheon, of Springfield, Massachusetts, made special be- 
quests of their pewter plates and dishes, some of which were elabo- 
rately lettered and marked with armorial devices. The New Eng- 
land churches frequently made use of communion services of pewter, 
and the Essex Institute in Salem still possesses such a set, in four pieces, 
which was said to have been in use as early as 1685, in the Marble- 
head Church. We also read that in 1729 the First Church of Han- 
over, Massachusetts, bought and used for many years a full service, as 
well as a "christening basin" of pewter. Some of these pieces are 
still preserved as relics; while the tankards, which have been silver- 
plated, are said to be in use to this day. In colonial times, and later, 
pewter dishes and plates were jealously cared for, and housewives 
took particular pleasure in keeping them brightly polished, which 
they did by rubbing them with "horsetails" (Equisetnm), or "scour- 
ing rush," until they shone like fine silver. The descendants of some 
of the oldest families have preserved their pewter articles among the 
most cherished ornaments of the kitchen and dining-room. In an 
old homestead in Shrewsbury, Massachusetts, the greatest treasures 
which it contains are cupboards and dressers full of pewter dishes. 

In olden times, pewter was hammered, spun, or cast into shape. 
The molds were of brass or gun metal, very carefully fitted, massive, 
and costly. The metal was poured directly into them, as in the case 
of lead or zinc. If hollow castings were required, the mold was re- 
versed before the metal became chilled through. What was still 
molten, ran out, leaving a cavity in the interior of the casting, just as 
in French art-zinc work. The surface of the casting needed no 
touching except where it was to be left plain and bright, and then it 
was turned on a hand-lathe and burnished. Afterward, the castings 











































































































H c 


UPPER object: matchlock (snuffers of pewter), used at clean drixking manor, 







were usually hammered over, to improve their general appearance 
and to toughen the metal. Spun, hammered and embossed pewter, 
is, however, no longer produced except in the quality of Britannia 

It was in hammering pewter that the genius of the workman found 
its best expression, and some of the most highly decorated specimens 
were probably produced in this way; e. g., the celebrated Gloucester 
candlestick, made in the twelfth century, and now on exhibition in the 
British Museum; a superb dish made for Henri HI, now in the 
Louvre collection; the salver and flagon with medallion portraits of 
Augustus of Saxony, etc. 

As later, in the New England colonies, so in old England, and in 
continental Europe, pewter was extensively used for church vessels 
and other ecclesiastical purposes. There is a record, dating from 
Merovingian times, of a pewter canopy over the figure of a saint 
in St. Vincent's Church, on the Garonne; while Gregory of Tours 
mentions a basilica roofed with pewter. In the Convent of the 
Holy Cross, at Erfwith, Saxony, there were found, as far back as 
1470, one hundred and fifty pewter amphorae, seventy cups, jugs, 
porringers, etc.; and, at St. Cyr, two hundred pewter amphorae, with 
a number of flagons and tankards. Even organ pipes were not infre- 
quently made of pewter, and an old record, dated 148 1, states that in 
one instance fourteen thousand five hundred pounds of the alloy were 
thus utilized. 

In France, the working of pewter as an art-craft dates back to the 
time when Jules Bratteau and others began the production of their 
beautiful plaques, coffee-sets, canisters, flagons, etc. In Germany, 
excellent work was done in pewter, including engraved work and 
etching with the niello effect, which consists of cutting the design in 
the metal and afterward filling the incised places with a black alloy. 

In the sixteenth century, the use of pewter spread to the homes of 
the middle classes, although its employment for fashionable ware 
also does not seem to have diminished; as evidenced by the fact that, 
in 1575, the Archbishop of Canterbury possessed "eighteen score and 
ten pounds of pewter vessels in the kitchen, in jugs, basins, porringers, 
sauce-boats, pots, and nineteen candlesticks; also pewter measures in 
the wine cellar, eight pewter salts in the pantry at Lambeth, and two 
garnishes of pewter, with spoons, at Croydon." It would seem al- 



most as if the flavor of wine must have been improved by coming in 
contact with pewter — so generally was it used in that connection; at 
any rate, these worthy dignitaries of olden times would appear at least 
to have had no aversion to drinking from vessels made of this alloy. 

The early history of pewter discloses some very curious and inter- 
esting facts. The skilled artisans employed in manufacturing pewter 
ware were not only anxious to produce the best results for their own 
sake, but were specially protected by municipal enactments, which 
also served to prevent fraud in the composition of the alloy, as well 
as to check the execution of inferior work. As early as 1348, ordi- 
nances existed in England, permitting the use of only two qualities of 
pewter; the first of which was called "finite," and contained "as much 
brass as the tin of its own nature will take." Of this kind were made 
the porringers, salt-cellars, platters, pitchers, cruets, and other articles 
which were "squared or ribbed." The second quality consisted of 
tin, with about twenty per cent, of lead, and this was used for pewter 
plate. Occasionally other metals beside lead were mixed with tin 
to produce pewter: such as zinc, bismuth, copper and antimony. So 
careful was the Mayor of London in protecting this important indus- 
try, that no pewter goods could be brought into that city until they 
had been assayed, and, in 1450, an exact weight was assigned to all 
the principal kinds of pewter vessels. In 1503, an act of Parliament 
was passed prohibiting the sale of pewter outside the premises of a 
pewterer, except in open market, and it was necessary that every piece 
should have the maker's personal mark. Of course, infringements 
of these ordinances occurred sometimes, which led to the appointment 
of wardens to search for defective wares. 

In the reign of Henry VIII, statutes were enacted forbidding the 
importation of pewter, and no foreigner was allowed to practise the 
trade in England; nor were English pewterers allowed to exercise 
their calling abroad, upon pain of alienation. Under later sov- 
ereigns, each maker of pewter was obliged to deliver to the "master" 
a private mark, which was impressed upon a plate kept in the hall of 
the Pewterer's Company, and with this mark all his wares were 
stamped. By a later ordinance (1575), every one who aspired to be 
a master pewterer was obliged to make, within the space of a week, 
"a quart ewer on a foot, a dish about four pounds in weight, and a 
pitcher holding four or five pots, bearing a written snatch or proverb." 



Moreover, silversmiths were prohibited from working in pewter, and 
vice versa, and, until 1650, it was even unlawful to plate with silver 
or gold any objects made from the baser metals; and, after that date, 
pewter objects covered with silver or gilding, had to be specially 
marked, in order to prevent their being placed on the market as speci- 
mens of the precious metals. 

In some cities in France the quality of the pewter ware was so 
jealously guarded by the authorities that pewterers were not allowed 
to work at night, for fear that artificial light might prevent first-class 
results. Fines were imposed for the employment of unauthorized 
alloys, and the use of leaden imitations was also punishable. 

It is thus evident that the pewter craft was, for cenfuries, one of 
considerable dignity and importance, and was carried on for the 
production of genuine works of art and not merely for objects of 
household utility. Although the industry has never been revived to 
its former extent, and possibly never will be, yet there are signs of a 
revival of some of the lesser arts, including the pewter craft, if we 
judge by the present demands of the public and by the fact that in 
some countries, especially England, societies are now being organized 
to encourage the production of artistic objects in metals by means of 
hand- work. 

In the valley of the Peguitz, zvhere across Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint 
broad nieadoiv-lands old town of art and song. 

Rise the blue Franconian mountains, Nu- Memories haunt thy pointed gables, like 
remberg, the ancient, stands. the rooks that round them throng. 

Here, ivhen .irt u-as still religion, tvith a 

simple reverent heart. 
Lived and labored Albrecht Diirer, the 

Evangelist of Art. 

Everywhere I see around me rise the icon- .J 'id above cathedral doorways saints and 

drous ivorld of Art : bishops carved in stone, 

Fountains wrought with richest sculpture By a former age commissioned as apostles 
i standing in the common mart: to our oivn. 





HE houses here illustrated from the designs of Myron 
Hunt and Elmer Gray, are pleasing examples of domes- 
tic architecture suited to the climate and landscape of 
California. They give the impression of having been 
planned for comfort, with no solicitude for display; 
while not the least of their attractions lies in the free use 
made in them of structural elements: arches, tourelles and dormer 
windows, not combined into "styles," but employed for the advantages 
of light, air and view, in response to the same needs which originally 
called them into existence. 

In view of the beautiful region represented, it is to be regretted 
that the color of the building materials is lost in reproduction; that 
the luminous quality of the atmosphere must be absent from the pic- 
tures and the strong accent of the gables and roof-lines consequently 
diminished. But yet the character of the designs and the suggestive 
manner of their execution would indicate semi-tropical surroundings, 
even if the palms and cypresses were omitted from the landscape. 

The house at Pasadena has a satisfying quality, which fixes the eye 
and does not allow the mind to wander away and wish that it were 
difTerent. The terrace with its ample pavement, the brick walls of 
enclosure with their sweeping concave lines of ascent, the boldly 
projecting bay, the sharp angles of the dormer windows, so harmoni- 
ous in the architectural scheme, and in some mysterious way so ap- 
propriate also to the natural scenery — all these features invite the 
attention of the mere picture-lover, while they can not fail deeply to 
interest those who have in mind to build homes in California. In the 
house at Pasadena, with its wide openings upon a luxuriant and 
highly-colored scene, one can imagine the joy of living to be as great 
as upon the Riviera. 

The remembrance of the Franco-Italian coast is still more vivid in 
the house at Montecito, by reason of its important arcades and terrace, 
although, as it has been indicated, the resemblance is one produced 
by necessity rather than by imitation. Here certain details of the 
Mission Style have been incorporated into the building with happy 
effect and to serve practical ends; moreover, without that emphasis 
which is but another name for affectation. 




4; -Clm, ► c g>k. .- ■, 

/Att-i" r 





Z E 

o c 
a z 

> < 



Z ''"• 

S fc; 








■ -v 








- (/) 

E a 

U -! 
H a 
'■^ C 

^ :z 

I/} < 

2 ^ 

ai u 
H E- 


z . 

". O 










HOUSE AT MONTECITO, CALIFORNIA; mvron hunt and elmer grev, archi- 

















T is often remarked that no interest attaches to the way in 
which a thing is produced; that here the only question of 
moment is the value of the thing accomplished. But this 
statement, although it would be accepted by a large propor- 
tion of the persons who might be questioned as to its truth, 
still contains an element of ruthlessness which wounds the 
sensitive. The care, the struggles, the methods undertaken to assure 
success — these certainly should claim the attention of one who ex- 
amines with enthusiasm a beautiful work of art or of handicraft. 
And such attention and interest are more frequently and freely lent 
than would at first appear. Interest (perverted and degraded in- 
deed) in the personality lying behind work and deed, is responsible 
for the vulgar display of portraiture which, beginning in the daily 
prints, has risen to higher places whence, a few years since, it would 
have been rigorously excluded. A much more legitimate and intel- 
ligent interest causes the biographies of discoverers, inventors, artists, 
and craftsmen to hold a high rank among favorite books on the lists 
of public libraries. 

To take a single case in illustration of the delight afforded by a 
biography, we may cite that of Benvenuto Cellini, whose exquisite 
works, preserved for hundreds of years in museums, acquire a new 
vitality, when we come into communication with the spirit of the man 
who made them. Such sentiments and eagerness, partly of the mind 
and partly of the senses, are necessary in every life as elements of in- 
spiration. But it is also essential to study calmly and critically the 
means employed by honest and wise effort to attain well-founded rep- 
utation and the material fortune dependent upon it. A prominent ex- 
ample of the latter class resides in the history of the Gorham Com- 
pany, the American silversmiths, whose recent honors at St. Louis 
have once more recorded a stage in the progress which they have made 
without interruption for three-quarters of a century. 

As may be determined by any one acquainted with the barest facts 
of their enterprise, the secret of their success lies in their steadfast 
liberal policy, as well as in the economy of effort, evidenced in their 
system of forming the body of their officers through the successive ad- 
vancement of capable employees. 



The individual part and the working of each of these factors offer 
interesting subjects of study. Liberality, ever a proof of intelligence 
in the one who exercises it, has always been shown by the Gorham 
Company, in the attitude of its officers to the spirit of the times, as 
well as toward those who serve them as designers and workmen. The 
controllers of this now highly important corporation have always felt 
that if they wished to gain the reward of faithful public service, they 
must be receptive to such impulses of the times as seemed to make for 
progress. For example, in the conflict between handicraft and ma- 
chinery they have judged it safest to pursue a middle course; con- 
demning the abuse of mechanical processes, yet, at the same time, 
favoring the economy of physical effort, which frees the mind of the 
artisan from small anxieties, and allows it leisure in which to devise 
new methods and to develop new ideas of beauty. They recognize 
that to return to primitive methods is not merely an affectation but a 
wrong, a sure means of lessening the power of expression; that in 
order to produce work which shall realize modern times as perfectly 
as the guild and handicraft work represented the spirit of the old 
times, processes must be rapid and perfect, else the age of science and 
invention is falsified. 

Another equally important evidence of a liberal policy occurs in 
the hospitality shown to the art-ideas of many and varying schools and 
nationalities. Indeed, the workshops of the Gorham Company have 
been characterized as a school of freedom, open alike to the artist who 
comes as a teacher from old-world studios, and to the untried youth 
who enters as an experimentalist; his sole recommendation consisting 
in his desire to produce something beautiful. But here again discrim- 
ination is used by the controllers of the enterprise. The men of repu- 
tation who are chosen as collaborators are such as are above all nar- 
rowness and fanaticism, such as pursue their work according to gen- 
eral principles, rather than in obedience to fixed styles; while the in- 
experienced and uninstructed are afforded all the advantages of a 
thorough school, in practical teaching and in the means to study the 
best examples of historic art in replica or in plates. In a word, it may 
be said that no attempt is made to dictate expression, when once abil- 
ity, in either active or latent state, has been discovered in the work- 
man who desires to create. To study thoroughly, but never to imi- 
tate, is the one lesson impressed upon all those who work with brain 



do J 




































1— < 
















Made by the Gorham Manufacturing Company 


Made by the Gorham Manufacturing Company 


Made by the Gorham Manufacturing Company 


Made by the Gorham Manufacturing Company 


Made b\ the (iorhani Manufacturing Company 


or with hand, in these largest silver smithing workshops of the world. 
Finally, the spirit of liberality is again evidenced, although in a new 
sense by the recent establishment of workshops in New York City, as 
a tendency to correct a too great centralization of effort, and upon the 
principle that monopoly in any form is dangerous; that competition 
even among associates, provided that it be friendly, is healthful and 
productive of good. 

This scheme, judged by the more conservative members of the 
Company as containing an element of danger to the cohesiveness of 
the organization, was advocated by Mr. Edward Holbrook, the Presi- 
dent, whose views have already been justified by results. But here, 
as in other questions of policy, the intuitive sense of this officer has 
guided him aright. Foresight such a practical quality can not be 
called. In this instance, it is no inspiration, but rather judgment de- 
duced from repeated experience; a reasoning faculty slowly and sol- 
idly developed with the same patience that is exhibited by the bee in 
building her cell. 

Through the mention of this act of policy and of its author, we 
make allusion to the other element which, joined to a spirit of liber- 
ality, has occasioned the great successes of the Gorham Company: that 
is, the system regulating the advancement of capable employees. 
^lr. Holbrook, who affords the best example of the working of this 
system, occupied in 1870, a subordinate position, from which he pro- 
gressed through all departments of the enterprise, gathering spe- 
cific knowledge, until he obtained by election the chief office and 
control, now possessed by him. This choice, as wise as it was 
inevitable, gave power to a man whose ability commanded rec- 
ognition, and to whom experience had taught the needs of the 
workmen; while giving him, at the same time, the analytical, de- 
tailed knowledge necessary to the proper conduct of so extensive a 
corporation. He thus became the sympathetic leader and companion 
of his forces for whom he has effected numerous schemes tending to- 
ward the increase of comfort, pleasure and culture. 

This enlightened policy of control is ably seconded by the art in- 
fluence directed upon the production of the Company by its chief de- 
signer, Mr. William C. Codman, in whose biography occur many 
significant facts worthy of note even in a passing comment like the 
present. Chief among these facts are those relating to his earliest 



work as an aid to a noted French artist in decorating the nave of Ely 
Cathedral, his subsequent commissions executed in many of the cathe- 
drals and mansions of England, and still later his employment by Cox 
and Son, the famous producers of metal work for churchly uses. 

As is natural, the influence of his early training remains strong in 
him, and many of his most spirited pieces are destined for service in 
the accomplishment of the ritual of the historic Church. Among 
such are the originals of the chalice and paten shown in our illustra- 
tions and which were executed several years since. 

Regarded as a design, the chalice offers many possibilities to the 
artist, whether he accepts the traditional forms of the object, or yet 
creates lines responding to his individual ideas of the new art. Here 
iMr. Codman has produced a work which, as one may judge from its 
homogeneous quality, was conceived quickly, but was afterward pa- 
tiently developed. It is representative of a period when the Middle 
Ages were passing into the Renascence, and the unity of the Church 
was fast aproaching dissolution. The tall, heavy standard compared 
with the relatively small and short bowl are within the best traditions 
of the object, and are eloquent of the Middle Ages; while the dol- 
phins mingled with ecclesiastical ornament, tell as surely of the ap- 
proach of the classical revival. Finally, the combination of the 
precious metals and the peculiar setting (en cabochon) of the stones 
are accomplished with a historical accuracy, a taste and skill which 
have been equaled by few modern designers; a number of examples 
by Viollet-le-Duc occurring to the mind of the student as worthy of 
no higher praise. The paten, less susceptible to decorative treat- 
ment, is made most beautiful by the insertion within a broad gold 
rim, or frame, of an enameled tondo. showing the "Adoration of the 
Magi;" the rich stuffs and furs of the kings and the flower-scattered 
foreground lending themselves naturally to the brilliant treatment in 
enamel. A splendid crozier, imposing, even ponderous, in design 
and thickly studded with jewels, unavailable here for illustration, dis- 
plays equally well the perfect sympathy of Mr. Codman with the old 
ecclesiastical art, as also his power of calling it back to life. A less 
majestic staff, designed by Mr. G. W. Codman, son of the distin- 
guished artist, and represented in our illustrations, is wrought in what 
may be called "the modern mood." Most refined in drawing, appro- 
priately adorned with Christian symbols, executed by the most skil- 
ful methods known to the Gorham Company, it is a beautiful speci- 



men of the most advanced art. And yet, when compared with the 
mediaeval crozier of the older designer it gives the impression of an 
ornament laid by the side of a weapon of authority. The tall slender 
crozier, adapted to our milder times, appears to bid its bearer to lift 
it straight and high over the heads of the people; while the richer 
and heavier stafT would seem to accomplish its purpose, were it held 
in the hand of one possessed of both spiritual and temporal power, 
and used to chastise the recalcitrant flock. 

But lack of space forbids us further description, and we can allude 
only in passing to a few objects of special merit or beauty. One of 
these is a rose-water jug with stand, on which the late Greek form of 
wine-pitcher (oenochoe), with its graceful leaf-mouth, is modified by 
modern influence, and the female figure, used as a decorative motif, 
appears with charming effect; following with body, gestures and 
drapery the Art Nouveau line, which here indulges in no vagaries 
and produces an agreeable rhythm. 

Another specimen is the punch-bowl displaying a Bacchic scene 
so frankly rendered that it might be an extract from Virgil translated 
into a new medium of expression. The Eclogues, the rustic cere- 
monies portrayed in the canvases of Angelica KaufTmann, and the 
prints of Bartolozzi, are all suggested by this scholarly work, which 
has withal no touch of dryness. 

The last piece to be mentioned is the now famous silver table ex- 
hibited at St. Louis by Mr. Codman the elder. It is regarded as a 
nine days' marvel by those who are unable to appreciate its artistic 
qualities, and it is believed by many to be the first piece of "silver fur- 
niture" ever executed. But such belief is a gross error. More than 
t\vo hundred years ago, Louis XIV., in order to provide money for his 
Rhenish wars, sent to the smelting-pot brasiers, tabourets, orange-tree 
tubs, and other furnishings in silver, to the value of millions of francs ; 
while recently also a noted French house of silversmiths has pro- 
duced a silver tea table and service, named from its design, "The Syca- 
more." But this is a trifling work compared with Mr. Codman's de- 
sign, which it was the labor of years to execute. The finest of suitable 
materials: silver, ebony, thuyawood, box-wood, ivory, and mother-of- 
pearl, contributed to its production, and these were employed with the 
highest degree of skill. Yet the object must be regarded as a tour de 
force rather than a work of pure art, and it is evident that Mr. Cod- 
man's powers are better devoted to a more restricted use of his chosen 
medium of expression. 4S9 


ERTAIN workers with the camera, many of whom are 
members of the Photo-Secession Society, have recently 
raised pictorial photography in America to the height 
of a fine art. They have used their instrument as a 
means by which to express original artistic ideas, and 
have proven their knowledge of drawing, values, tonal- 
ity, perspective and composition which they possess and utilize, like 

Works like Alfred Steiglitz's "Winter in Fifth Avenue," which 
represents a phase of Nature, and the same artist's "Scurrying Home- 
ward," in which moving figures are successfully introduced, rise far 
above the bare record of facts which we formerly demanded from 
photography; becoming works of art in which the powers of idealiza- 
tion and selection are exercised. 

Within the Society of pictorial photographers just mentioned, 
there are those who overstep the technical limits of their medium; 
regarding themselves as justified in striving to obtain the specific re- 
sults of the painter, the etcher, and the lithographer. Again, these 
extremists may be divided into two classes: the representatives of the 
first division seeking to reflect the principles of painting and to imi- 
tate the effects of masters of light and shade, like Rembrandt and Cor- 
reggio; the members of the second division borrowing, whenever pos- 
sible the processes of other arts. In the latter number we find the 
painters, Steichen and Eugene, who treat their prints as if they were 
etchings or paintings; engraving lines wherever they judge them to be 
necessary, hiding all defects with cross-hatchings, or painting in en- 
tire backgrounds, and completely changing the aspect of their sub- 
jects as represented by the lens of the camera. 

As might be inferred, the process experts are usually men, while 
among those who strive after the results of the old masters in composi- 
tion, light and shade, and general pictorial efTect, several women have 
distinguished themselves. A Photo-Secession Exhibition would 
scarcely be complete without the customary portraits by Gertrude 
Kasebier, in which the face stands out, illuminated and modeled, like 
the focal point in an old Dutch picture; while all else remains unde- 
fined and vaporous. So, too, lovers of photography quickly recog- 
nize the exquisite New England landscapes of the Misses Allen and 



Photographs by Adelaide Hanscom 


Photograph by Adelaide Ilanscom 


Photograph by Adelaide Hanscom 

: . , .' MAX." 


Photographs by Adelaide Hanscom 


the picturesque groups by the same artists, which are little transcripts 
of village life quite comparable with those offered in the paintings 
of Edouard Frere and of Meyer von Bremen, a few years since so 
highly appreciated by collectors of pictures. Still another woman 
artist-photographer, less widely known, because her work lies far 
from the East, is Miss Adelaide Hanscom, a number of whose por- 
traits of children and genre-pictures are here reproduced. 

Miss Hanscom, who is a resident of Berkeley, California, came 
to her profession fitted by work pursued for five years in a private 
studio, and afterward by a three years' course in the State University, 
as the holder of one of the tAvelve scholarships established for meri- 
torious students. Her success has been rapid and she is now under con- 
tract to a New York publisher for a series of life studies, designed to 
illustrate the Rubaiyat. She has been engaged for more than a year 
upon this serious work which she at times interrupts to deal with 
lighter subjects, like those introduced into our present illustrations, 
These pictures are intended to accompany a collection of poems and 
songs for children w'hich Mr. Charles Keeler has recited and sung to 
the great delight of the pupils in the schools of Berkeley and of San 
Francisco. They are among the first of an extensive series which will 
be made into lantern slides and used in recitals which Mr. Keeler has 
been invited to give at various points of the country. 

The first illustration showing the tvvo girls blowing soap bubbles, 
translates into visible form the spirit of the verses: 

"O what a'beauty all purple and pink ! 
Whiff ! It has vanished before you can think ! 
Now look at this one with clouds and a tree 
Swimming about in a gold-lighted sea !" 

The baby boy, to illustrate the rhymes called "Little Brother," has 
an unmistakable quality of a Greuze portrait and forms an exact 
counterpart to the lines : 

"Ringlets golden shapely head, 
Smiles that break ere tears have fled, 
Eyes of blue that open wide, 
Wondering at the world outside." 

Equally pictorial also are the two groups representing the same 
models of woman and child; the standing group recalling the man- 
ner of Cecilia Beaux, and the seated figures somewhat more remotely 
indicating the "Music Lesson" of Sir Frederick Leighton. But the 
suggestions in these figures are infinite and it is best perhaps that each 
should accept and enjoy them in his own way. 46s 



To the wonderful castle of darkness and light. 
There came a lone stranger, a smiling young sprite, 
To visit the children asleep for the night. 

The smiling young visitor met on his way, 

While crossing the threshold, a Ghost old and gray, 

fVho winked at him slyly, as much as to say: 

"I'm off for vacation. Good-bye, little son, 
M.y sowing and reaping and waiting are done, 
My labors are over, your task just begun. 

^ Be good to my children, and bid them Good -night.'' " 
"I'll bid them 'Good-morning,' " replied the young sprite, 
fVhile the Ghost simply nodded and passed out of sight. 

The frisky young stranger went prowling about 

On tip -toe, till daylight began to peep out; 

Then he woke up the children with this merry shout: 

" IVake up! little sleepies, and see who is here, 
. For I'm getting lonesome; I bring you good cheer; 
You' II soon know me better, — Pm 


The children all shouted: "Hello, Happy New!" 
You're younger than we are, pray what can you do? 
The Old Year was jolly, let's have fun with you." 

Then Happy New Year laughed loud in his glee. 

And answered: That's funny as funny can be, 

IVhat very old children I've come here to see." 

You must have forgotten, or else you would know 
My every year errand, — to help children grow. 
And bring them their birthdays, while months come and go. 

' Tis good to be jolly and glad you're alive, 
I'm older'n I look. Nineteen Hundred and Five, 
But ready for anything you can contrive. 

"I'm never too old with the children to play. 

So, wake -up, you sleepies — we II have fun to-day; 

The time to be happy is 'now' while we may." 

Then Happy New Year and the children began 

To make the world happy, — and this was their plan; 

To smile and be kindly and help — 





F we see a tendency to polarization in society, the ugly forces 
of production huddling together at one end and the more 
sightly ones of luxurious expenditure at the other, we may 
perhaps imagine this tendency carrying itself to its logical 
limit and all the dirty work of the country or of the world 
corraled and localized in some concentration camp, whence 
by some wireless system its benefits could be spread over the face of 
humanity. We might take the region of Pittsburgh for instance and 
deflect the economic axis of the earth, until it became the social and 
industrial South Pole, and, as soon as any man anywhere began to in- 
dulge in some unbeautiful means of livelihood, he could be banished 
to the Forks of the Ohio, and there permitted to defile Creation as he 
pleased. The counties which are grouped about Fort Duquesne are 
already a good deal of a purgatory. Why not make an inferno of 
them, so as to let the rest gf the country become a paradise? It is just 
conceivable that such an attempt might be made, but alas, it it per- 
fectly clear that the new heaven would be less habitable than the new 
hell. A world without manual labor would be an inhuman mon- 
strosity, and the partial experiments already made in this direction 
prove it. Go to any one of the favorite "Parks" of the aristocracy, 
where near our great cities they build their villas together, sur- 
rounded, perhaps a hundred of them, by a great exclusive fence, with 
watchmen at the gates who admit no shabby individual of any kind, 
unless he administers directly to the comfort of those within. These 
parks are situated in the midst of the most beautiful scenery and the 
most invigorating air, and yet no man, — I will not say with a heart, 
but with a stomach, — can really live there. It is a playing at living. 
The very atmosphere is artificial, and the lungs are stifled for want of 
a human environment. Better far the worst of factories, the most 
dismal of tenements, than perpetual confinement in the purlieus of a 
"country club." 

No. We cannot get rid of the ugliness of manufacture and pov- 
erty by sequestration, for, if we try it, we shall surely find the worst 
form of spiritual ugliness left behind. Beauty means art, and art is a 
flower of labor and cannot be grafted upon any other stem. The dil- 
ettante appanage of luxury which we call art is a sport, the issue of 



unnatural conditions, and it is only because our lives are also un- 
natural that we fail to see it. Work, not idleness, should be beau- 
tiful, and beauty belongs by rights to the worker and not to the idler. 
The kitchen and workshop and exchange should be decorated, not the 
drawing-room. By reserving art for the rich, we have made it ex- 
pensive, and this is another mark of its degradation. Beauty ought 
to be the cheapest thing in the world. Whatever is plentiful is cheap, 
and an artistic people would put beauty into everything. We can see 
even to-day in the Swiss chalet and the Japanese country house that a 
large outlay of money is not needed to produce an artistic effect. 
Beauty requires only an eye and an ear, a hand and a soul. It needs 
men, and there should be no lack of them. If there is, we would bet- 
ter devote our attention to the manufacture of them, and leave art to 
take care of itself, and it will take care of itself. Beauty is cheap 
enough, but we pay an enormous price for our ugliness. 

We must do something to remedy matters, for otherwise we shall 
reach an issueless passage. Give the rein to a world of profit-hunters, 
and it will come to grief. All the old myths teach us this simple les- 
son. The flood wnped out an ugly world, not very dififerent from our 
own. The theosophists give us all the details of the sinking of the 
Atlantean continent with its highly civilized millions, and that conti- 
nent undoubtedly had its Wall Street, its sky-scrapers, and its slums. 
And no miracle is needed to bring such a civilization to an end, for 
it carries the seeds of its own destruction in its womb. We are be- 
coming Titans of brute force preying upon one another. This must 
be ended somehow, but we may be able to dispense with deluges and 
cataclysms, if we only undertake to change our manners ourselves. 
And a keen sense of the ugliness of it all maybe just the straw neces- 
sary to break the camel's back. We can put up with a great deal of 
iniquity, until it becomes hideous, and then, at last, we may revolt 
against it. I knew a man who tried to break the tobacco habit be- 
cause it was unwholesome, extravagant, and foolish, but he was never 
successful, until one day he discovered that the back of his teeth was 
nearly pot-black, and that determined him. He never smoked again. 
Let us be shocked in the same way by our own ugliness and seek to 





' — .V^JTJ ^^y 

— <> 





FITTING memorial to a division of the primitive race 
of America has just been erected in Syracuse, New 
Yorlv. It is one of three fountains bequeathed to the 
municipality under the will of a wealthy citizen, Mr. 
William Kirkpatrick. It is the design of a young 
American sculptor of talent, who first gained public at- 
tention through his memorial statue of Walt Whitman in Baltimore. 
Recently completed, it was formally delivered to the city, on Novem- 
ber 17, last, when the Indian enthusiasts of the region assembled to 
honor the principle and people represented in the work. 

As may be learned from the illustrations, the fountain consists of a 
high cylindrical base set in a basin and surmounted by a group of bow- 
men of the Onondaga tribe, who constituted the aboriginal popula- 
tion of the region, and whose few remaining descendants still occupy 
a reservation at a short distance from the city. 

The erection of this sculptured fountain can not be otherwise than 
a step of advance in the right way; since it will awaken and preserve 
popular interest in ethnology, which is one of the most important of 
studies. It will also — even if to a slight degree — aid in correcting 
popular prejudice against our red race of men who, a hundred years 
since, were as civilized as the tribes whose history composes Caesar's 
Commentaries, and certainly not more cruel than the great General 
himself, when he cut ofT the hands of certain ambassadors and sent 
them back thus mutilated to their people. The statue of the Gallic 
chieftain Vercingetorix surmounts a noted hill in the vicinity of the 
city of Dijon, France, and, in the same artistic country, the Gaul with 
his picturesque qualities often serves as a subject for students' compe- 
titions. Awakened in the hearts of our own people, a similar love of 
the land which we inhabit,- — quite distinct from patriotism — should 
place at proper points similar memorials to a race which will soon be 
extinct, and this, while yet models exist from whom the truth may be 

Sentiments such as these, clothed in various forms, were expressed 
at the unveiling of the monument by the local authority upon Indian 
subjects, the Reverend William Beauchamp, S. T. D., and Dr. 
George Wharton James. The former speaker made an estimate of 
the Indian which bore the stamp of truth and authority, since it was 
a narrative of personal experience delivered with the effect which 



comes from simplicity. It was, moreover, clothed in an English 
which, greatly to be regretted, is giving place to a style of false em- 
phasis. In view of those qualities, and also as a clear explanation of 
the reasons for the erection of such a memorial, certain of the utter- 
ances of Dr. Beauchamp are quoted below: 

"There is one feature of Indian character which stands out clearly 
here, though it is often thought that political enmity took the form of 
lasting revenge. It may have done so with some, for the Onondagas 
said, centuries ago, that we must distinguish between nation and na- 
tion. There have been lasting animosities in Europe and we should 
expect some here, yet many examples can be cited where old foes be- 
come warm friends. Champlain is supposed to have caused the last 
enmity of the Five Nations, but he did not. His attacks brought no 
retaliations and in spite of frequent hostilities from later causes, a 
large part of the Iroquois were always friends of the French. What- 
ever the war, they laid aside all enmity when peace came. 

In all the State of New York, after 1779, no Indian ever lifted 
his hatchet against his former American foes. On the contrary, he 
fought with him in the war of 181 2, and in our later Civil War. 
Better even than this, he helped him in the things which made for 
peace. We cannot peruse a history of any part of Western New 
York without finding tales of mutual good will. The red man 
guided the white settler through the woods, showed him the old 
orchards, went on his errands, brought him supplies, helped him in 
sickness, lent his strong arm to raise his house or mill, and aided him 
in many ways. There is scarcely an old family of that day but 
has pleasant tales of their Indian friends, men and women always wel- 
come and always highly esteemed. The days of war were absolutely 
left behind, and they sang with joy their ancient song of peace. It is 
right that we should remember such friends in need as these." 

Following Dr. Beauchamp, Dr. James paid another tribute to the 
Indian based upon his contact with the tribes of California and the 
Southwest. He was most interesting when he remarked upon the 
faithful study which the sculptor had given to his model, as to confor- 
mation of skull, expression of countenance, bony structure and car- 
riage of the body, the manner of handling the bow as differing from 
that of the white, and lastly the slight but significant indication of in- 
tercourse with men of higher civilization residing in the material of 
the breech-clout. 



Dr. James concluded his address by the words: "As a lover of 
the Indian, I am delighted to see this movement toward recognition 
of his place in our history. We have too often associated him with 
treachery, cruelty and deeds of blood. It is a wicked slander so to 
hand down the name of 'Indian.' The red man possessed many 
noble qualities, and, in this statue, I see the dawn of a new day 
wherein we shall do justice to our brother. I congratulate the city 
upon the statue and upon its sculptor, trusting that Mr. Connor 
may give to Syracuse more tokens of his artistic power and skill." 

To this brief report of the ceremony may be added a word of com- 
ment regarding the situation and placing of Mr. Connor's statue. 
The fountain stands in a square toward the northern limits of the city, 
and is surrounded by modest dwellings of wood having small height, 
and making no pretense of style. The group, as we have seen, repre- 
sents primitive man in his quest for food. The idea of a background 
for the action, forcibly suggested, is that of the primeval forest. Yet 
the base upon which the work is mounted is such as might serve for the 
ordinary formal statue of our parks and more important city squares; 
making no allusion to the statue itself other than by means of the em- 
blems of the four clans of the Onondaga tribe utilized as mouth pieces 
from which the jets of water spout. 

This setting seems cold, prosaic, lifeless. The Indian bowmen 
lose their meaning. So circumstanced, they might escape unfavor- 
able comment in a museum, where statues are classified, and placed 
in rows upon a single type of plinth. But, in the open air, they invite 
criticism. Their effect should be heightened by a touch of Nature. 

As a suggestion, therefore, a hasty sketch of a rustic fountain is 
added to the illustrations of the monument as it actually exists. A 
somewhat irregular pile of rough rockwork. serving as a base for the 
statue, would also be more appropriate to the square itself than the 
one of studied proportions which now supports the figures. 

A parallel to this rustic base, executed upon a large scale and con- 
ducive to superb effect, occurs in the Grand' Place in Antwerp, where 
a bronze statue stands at the summit of a mound of stones, piled to a 
height proportionate to that of the surrounding houses; the color of 
the paving stones modulating into that of the rocks, and the latter 
again into the warm brown of the metal giant. 

At some time may we not hope to possess in every one of our 
towns of the United States a municipal art commission as efficient 
as that of each one of the Belgian City republics? 475 


i]S a new departure for 1905, THE Cr.'\ftSMAN presents 
plans for an urban house, adapted to thickly populated 
areas, in which frontage is limited, and questions of 
light and air must receive careful consideration. For 
this residence, a width of thirty-five feet will suffice, pro- 
vided that the flanking houses do not stand directly on 
the lot line; but an additional five or ten feet would prove of distinct 
advantage to the setting and the habitable quality. For depth of lot 
there should be ninety feet at least, which will give a small plot of 
turf between the house and the street, but no back yard worthy of 

If the natural site permit, the ground may be terraced with good 
effect, and carried out to a low wall parallel with the street; two 
or three stone steps descending to the level of the side walk. This ter- 
race wall, in common with all the dressed stone work of the exterior, 
is of gray limestone laid up as random-coursed rubble, with faces 
bush-hammered; the mortar being colored dark, almost black, and 
the wall covered with flags of the same stone. This kind of masonry 
is used also for the foundation walls of the house in which it is exposed 
from the ground line to the patent-hammered gray limestone water 

Above the foundation, the exterior walls are entirely of brick; 
from the watertable to the limestone belt just below the third story 
windows, being faced with dark red "Bradford" brick (No. 00) , laid 
in English bond and in dark mortar with narrow joints, full pointed, 
with which ruddy tone the door and window sills and lintels of lime- 
stone contrast agreeably in color. 

The wall of the third story is covered with cement, which, rough 
in texture and of a gray tone much lighter than the stone belt-courses 
above and below it, modulates between the red brick and the cornice, 
which is of wood, stained brown-green (Cabots 302), as is also all 
other exposed wood work of the building. The cornice is supported 
by modillions piercing the plaster at regular intervals, and affording 
apleasingplay of light and shadow ; while the roof is designed to be 
covered with shingles stained like the remainder of the exterior wood 
work, although metal may be substituted, if its use be demanded by 
city ordinances. 









o pq 







Among the features of the exterior which attract and hold the eye, 
-one of the most agreeable is the break in the wall surface of the f agade, 
produced by a recessed or paneled efifect, four inches deep and wide 
enough to contain the windows of the first and second stories. An- 
other pleasing detail resides in the stone ledge beneath the casements 
of the living room, which ledge rests on stone corbels, and supports 
concrete flower-boxes ornamented on the exterior with glass mosaic 
in a conventional design, worked out in deep reds, greens and cream 
color. These boxes are repeated at the curb of the wall surrounding 
the balcony above the vestibule. 

At various points, brick corbelling relieves what might be other- 
"wise a too plain wall surface, and the projecting oriels fulfil the same 
purpose; while further interest is added by the proper placing of the 
window openings, especially those of the faqade, where their arrange- 
ment gives an impression of strength and balance consequent upon the 
broad piers. Both side elevations are also sufficiently broken to be 
interesting, and here and there, throughout the house, occur casement 
•sashes, which, as well as the ordinary windows, are divided into small 
rectangular panes; while many of the transoms contain leaded glass 
in attractive patterns. 


Entrance from the street is made into a vestibule, thence into a 
large hall containing a staircase and leading at its farther end to a re- 
ception room, which is only partially divided from it; an opening oc- 
curring on either side between the post and the side walls. The hall 
is flanked on the left by the living room, and on the right by the dining 
room; a coat closet is conveniently placed under the stairs, and the 
provisions for domestic service made by the kitchen and its depen- 
dencies are ample. 

Throughout the first floor the wood work is of oak; quarter sawed 
stock being used for the principal rooms, and plain oak for the kitchen 
with its appurtenances. The floors are also of oak fumed to a rich 
warm brown. 

The halls of the second floor are finished in oak; the front and one 
back room in hazel wood, and the second back room in gray maple. 
A linen closet opens from the hall, and there are also closets for each 








of the three sleeping rooms; the front and most important room hav- 
ing a dressing cabinet which connects with the bath. 

The third floor is treated in white ; the trimming of Carolina pine, 
painted or enameled white, with the doors stained slightly green and 
the floors of Georgia pine, matching them in color. The arrange- 
ment of the third floor is practically the same as the second, except 
that the front room is designed to be used as a nursery, and the adjoin- 
ing room as a dressing cabinet. 

Basement: The basement having a concrete floor and plastered 
ceiling, extends under the entire structure, and contains, beside the 
usual coal storage space and heater room, a large, well-lighted laun- 
dry, preserve and wine closets, and excellent storage facilities. 

The Vestibule: Here the floors are faced with Indian yellow 
tiles of matt finish; while the walls are wainscoted with the same til- 
ing to the height of about four feet; above this point, they are covered 
with burlap in Delft blue, the tone of which modulates admirably 
into the rough gray plaster of the ceiling. 

The Hall: This large division of the main floor has been treated 
with the special aim to insure an inviting aspect; since were this lost, 
the entire interior would result in failure. As a whole, it is even 
more attractive than would appear from the illustration, which, giv- 
ing but a section including the staircase, might produce the impres- 
sion of a too great preponderance of vertical lines : a fault which does 
not exist when the eye is permitted to sweep through the room; the 
idea then gained being one of balance and fine adjustment of parts. 
The treatment, effective as a whole, loses nothing when considered in 
detail, since the decorative scheme admirably supplements the archi- 
tecture by adding the necessary elements of variety and cheerfulness. 
In this room the wainscoting and the remainder of the trim are of oak, 
fumed to, a warm brown ; the walls are burlaped in the Delft blue used 
in the vestibule; the frieze and the ceiling are again of gray plaster, 
left rough "under the float." An interesting color play is afiforded 
throughout the space by leaded glass panels set between the reception 
room and the hall. These show a general tone of soft yellow, with 
occasional notes of terra cotta and sap green, and they are equally ef- 
fective, whether seen from the reception room or from the entrance 
door. The textiles used are golden yellow silk for draping the high 
windows, and a floor rug in Indian yellow, old blue and spots of terra 



cotta. A settle, placed between the staircase landing and the coat- 
room, has pillows of Indian yellow canvas with applied designs in 
blue, a color which, in order to complete the balance of the scheme, 
again appears in flower-bowls and vases of old Canton China, set upon 
the wide window sill. The decoration of the space receives its final 
touch by means of a screen, which separates the reception room from 
the hall, and displays a surface of dull orange-colored Spanish leather 
framed in a border of large and thickly set brass nails. The other 
doorways leading to the living room and the dining room, are hung 
with gray-green canvas, without decoration, except the hemstitch- 
ing, which runs across the bottom and along the sides. 

Reception Room: In its decoration and furnishings the recep- 
tion room repeats the color scheme of the hall, of which it is in reality 
the continuation. Its principal features are the window seat directly 
opposite the entrance, and an electric fixture made of perforated brass 
backed with woven copper wire, which hangs from the center of the 
room by four small chains. The latter constitutes the focal point 
of the hall to which the eye returns again and again with con- 
stantly increasing pleasure. 

The Living Room: The chief attraction of this room is afforded 
by a skilful arrangement of light and color. The walls are covered 
with Spanish leather, having a gray-green finish, through which the 
natural color of the skin appears in a play of golden yellow, thus pro- 
ducing the efTect of a "changeable" fabric. Broad windows at the 
front admit what would be an excess of light, were it not softened by 
leaded transoms and by yellow-green silk curtains. The light so 
modified is reflected upon the soft, ruddy, expansive surface of the 
copper hood of the chimney-piece, upon which appears an interesting 
hammered design; while a further note of distinction is added by 
lamps with perforated shades of the same metal, suspended before the 
fireplace and at other points of the room. The general harmony of 
the room itself is completed by the cream tint of the ceiling into which 
a slight touch of red has been introduced. The furniture is of brown 
oak; the large settle being provided with a leather seat (gray-green 
like the wall-covering) and red pillows; while the case of the piano, 
matching the other movables, is inlaid in a flower-pattern of soft 
green and old-rose woods, and the leaded-glass doors of the book-cases 
repeat the same colors modified by transparency. The rug shows as 



its principal color the gray-green of the walls, which is once again 
repeated in the hearth tiles; while copper in the clock face and 
plaques echoes the principal feature of the room. 

The Dining Room: Here the color-scheme is executed in blue 
and gold ; the wood work being of the warm brown before mentioned, 
and the walls covered with blue gray burlap, stenciled in a design of 
royal blue, picked out with orange. The fire-place is faced in dull 
yellow tiles with matt surface, and the plaster of the ceiling tinted to 
a warm cream. The leaded window transoms are ornamented with 
a pomegranate motif executed in green and yellow opalesent glass, the 
effect of which is heightened by the dull yellow India silk curtains. 
The large floor rug shows a cream center deeper in tint than the ceil- 
ing, with a border introducing gray-green, orange and blue,while the 
covering of the chairs unites the two colors in the use of blue-gray 
mottled leather, fastened by large headed and thickly-set brass nails. 
Kitchen: The wood work of the kitchen and its dependencies is 
fumed to a light tone of brown, and the walls are painted in a rich 
shade of yellow. 

Second Floor: In the second story, the hall continues the wood 
work and the color scheme of the walls found in the corresponding 
room of the first floor. The front bed room is "trimmed" in hazel 
wood treated with a solution of iron to a warm gray tone. The walls 
are done in fawn-brown, and the ceiling is tinted to a rich cream; 
while the fire place is built of dull yellow bricks, slightly deeper in 
tint than the ceiling. The rag rug is woven in fawn and old blue, and 
the curtains are of linen, natural color, embroidered in cross stitch 
patterns of old blue ; the furniture is of hazel wood. Adjoining 
this bed room, there is a dressing cabinet with white wood work, 
fawn-brown walls and cream ceiling. 

The Bath Room : This room, entered from the dressing cabinet, 
and also from the hall, is done in white; the floor is laid in tile, and the 
walls wainscoted with the same material to the height of four feet; 
above which point appears white plaster banded with narrow gold 


T remains but to give an estimate of the cost of this urban house, 
which in most localities would be approximately $10,800, ex- 
clusive of the furnishings. 



THE CRAFTSMAN, as a lonely 
toiler, wholly apart from family 
life, is liable to become sadder 
than his wont at the approach of the Holi- 
days. For, as he witnesses the end of a 
year, he is liable to feel himself mercilessly 
robbed of some measure of his last re- 
maining treasure : vitality and vigor. 

He was about to enter upon this gloomy 
path of thought, a day or two since, when 
suddenly the final page of a book beloved 
in his childhood, stood as if printed before 
him, enlarged so that it shut from his view 
the entire outer world, and w:is illuminated 
by a soft radiance grateful to his tired eyes. 

The book was the once favorite "Attic 
Philosopher," In which the reflections of a 
mature, cultured and gentle manhood are 
expressed with an extreme refinement and 
a wealth of allusion which it is no longer 
modish to admire; the pleasure of the ma- 
jority now lying in forced emphasis and 
the abuse of specific words drawn with 
equal readiness from technical vocabula- 
ries and from the argot of the streets. 

The "Attic Philosopher," like the 
Craftsman, was a solitary man, a lover 
of his fellows, living under the eaves, be- 
cause his purse was slender, making kindly 
observations upon the ways of those about 
him, and thus collecting a store of homely 
knowledge as useful to others as to him- 
self in the conduct of life. He has long 
been the Craftsman's model, possessed of 
unattainable perfection, but yet displaying 
a kinship with his humble follower which 
it is impossible not to recognize : the two 
men offering a similarity comparable with 
that which exists between a tool of finely 
tempered steel and one wrought after the 

same pattern, in the ruder substance of 

The passage from the philosopher's 
thought which blazoned itself before the 
Craftsman's eyes to the exclusion of all 
else, described a vision in which a spirit, 
representing the New Year, appeared to 
the weary, disheartened man, saying to 
him with grave voice: "See, I take away 
your youth! But, in return I give you ex- 

These words, as the Craftsman sat at 
his bench, plying the tools of his trade, as- 
sumed for him the character of a gospel. 
They became for him convincing, preg- 
nant with meaning, adaptable to the most 
personal, intimate contingencies, like the 
very Parables themselves. He reflected 
upon them for hours, feeling, as time ad- 
vanced, their truth and greatness, just as 
he might have watched a body of water 
rising with impetuous power to fill an al- 
ready marked-out bed. 

The exchange of youth for experience 
presented itself to the thinker no longer in 
the character of a merciless robbery. He 
saw it to contain a strong element of com- 
pensation, not indeed, brilliant, attractive, 
and such as to cause its free acceptance; 
but such, after its forced acceptance, as to 
prove itself as dear to its possessor as the 
thing removed. 

As the day wore on, the worker real- 
ized more and more the power and mean- 
ing of his revelation. He felt the waste 
of effort made by youth and could taste 
the bitterness of first sorrows. He saw, 
as if by clairvoyance, folly shadowing the 
steps of the young man and striving to 
bar his passage. He saw him attacked by 



perplexities, while he was as yet unpro- 
tected by the weapons which are the gift 
of experience. 

Finally, he realized as never before the 
value of the added years as the agents 
which develop, instruct, multiply the 
powers of the man, and separates them 
into the finest ramifications of sensitive- 

The light failed in the workshop, but 
the Craftsman could still perceive the vis- 
ion of the book. It was too sacred to be 
carried into the throngs of the street, and, 
following ancient traditions after the man- 
ner of his kind, he sought to make it vanish 
by pronouncing a formula known only to 
the initiate. He slowly said: "I gladly 
accept thee, experience, in return for my 
youth, because thou hast taught me to 
savor the aroma of the vintage of sorrow." 


WE shall be pleased to publish each 
month under this head all duly 
authenticated notices of respon- 
sible Arts and Crafts Exhibitions, Artist's 
Exhibitions, Craftsman's Institutes, Man- 
ual Training Summer Schools, and the 
like, if sent in time to be an item of news. 
Address Editor of the Notes, The Crafts- 
man, Syracuse, N. Y. 

"Chronicle," one of the best of the local 
journals, not an article was shown that did 
not reflect credit upon its maker and the 
exhibiting organization. The scope of 
the display was this year widened to in- 
clude several branches of the fine arts, and 
a glance at the descriptive catalogue will 
be repaid by the pleasure derived from fine 
reproductions of what would appear to be 
excellent examples of handicraft and the 
applied arts. 

The Craftsman, in the interest of 
those who are seeking practical plans for 
variously situated homes, invites architects 
throughout the country to submit draw- 
ings and plans adapted for execution in 
their special sections. From such the 
most available will be chosen ; due credit 
being given to the designer, and great care 
taken to assure an adequate reproduction 
of the original drawings. In this way, it 
is believed, many interests will be served, 
and much good will be accomplished by 
simple and easy means. 

IVI. Charles Wagner, the Protestant 
pastor of Paris, who lately returned to 
France after a tour of the United States, 
made, as he himself says, for the double 
purpose of propagating his ideas of life and 
of studying the country and its people, 
will prepare, in the near future, for The 
Craftsman, several articles setting forth 
his impressions and observations. 

The second annual exhibition of the Dr. George Wharton James of The 

California Guild of Arts and Crafts Craftsman, has prepared a new lecture 

opened at the St. Francis Hotel, San upon "William Morris, the Man." 

Francisco, on the first day of the current This lecture, or any other included in 

month. According to the critic of the Dr. James's list will be delivered before 


arts and crafts societies and women's clubs 
at a small expense to such organizations if 
their members are willing to comply with 
a request, the condition of which, will be 
explained on application to Dr. James. 

A late bulletin of the Morris Society 
contains the following: 

In reference to the anticipated visit of 
Miss May Morris to this country in the 
Spring, under auspices of the Morris So- 
ciety, several appointments to lecture have 
already been made. This daughter of 
William Morris is very naturally a tal- 
ented craftsman and is also an interesting 
speaker. Her topics include "Mediaeval 
Embroider)'," "Jewels," "Costume," "Pa- 
geantry and the Masque," and "Mediaval 
Womankind." The advent of Miss Mor- 
ris in Chicago ought to prove nothing less 
than epoch making in "turning many 
women to righteousness" from the crime, 
not to mention the tiresomeness, of what- 
soever kind of mere pastime. Dr. Triggs 
will be glad to correspond with institutions 
or clubs desiring to secure one or more of 
these lectures from Miss Morris. 

The Craftsman, believing in the fu- 
ture of the Arts and Crafts movement in 
the United States, desires to serve as a 
means of communication between such or- 
ganizations. With this purpose, it wishes 
to publish in its pages a director)' of Arts 
and Crafts Societies, with all obtainable in- 
formation in regard to their organization, 
officers, etc. This project can be realized 
only if all Arts and Crafts Societies will 
aid in securing the needed data. It is be- 
lieved that such a directory would be of 

great service to all who are interested in 
this phase of progress. 

The directory will be begun in the com- 
ing issue if enough material shall be re- 
ceived to indicate that the undertaking has 
met with the approval of the readers of 
this magazine. 

In order to make Arts and Crafts work- 
ers familiar with the productions of other 
than their own societies, all such workers 
are invited to submit, for publication in 
The Craftsman, photographs of any of 
their own work which is structural and 
artistic; each photograph to be accom- 
panied by a full description of the object 

The Society of Arts and Crafts, of 
Park street, Boston, is making a special 
exhibit of modern printing. 

The following extract from a letter ad- 
dressed by the Art Committee of the Na- 
tional Arts Club, to the members of that 
organization, speaks for itself as indicat- 
ing the recognition that the Arts and 
Crafts movement is gaining in America : 

"Recognizing the fact that the Arts 
Club stands for Crafts work as well as 
easel painting or ideal sculpture the ex- 
hibitions will be divided between the dif- 
ferent phases of Art so that during the 
season representation of all forms will be 
shown, if possible." 

Professor Oscar L. Triggs and Parker 
H. Sercomb, once a Chicago banker, are 
starting a new social experiment at 1926 
Indiana Avenue, Chicago, 111. They call 



it "The People's Industrial College," and 
the idea is the education of the people to 
the things they want and need. The sys- 
tem of education now in vogue in our uni- 
versities and schools is a hereditary one, 
handed down by the leisure class, to whom 
education was once confined. It is there- 
fore not adapted for those who are work- 
ers. These gentlemen seek to give an 
education adapted purely to the needs of 
"the people" as difEerentlated from the 
wealthy or leisure class. The basis of the 
college is work — plain economic work. 
Everybody works practically and not in a 
playing, dillitante manner. Everything 
must stand the test of the market. Ex- 
perienced and practical workers will teach 
the various branches demanded. The 
founders have put their capital into it not 
as a monetary investment, but as a perma- 
nent endowment. 

standard book upon "Indian Basketry," 
and of deservedly popular works treating 
the "Grand Canyon," the scenery and 
architecture of the Southwest and Cali- 
fornia, and the "Indians of the Painted 
Desert." Into his new departure, Mr. 
James will carry his characteristic en- 
thusiasm and sympathy, which never fail 
to convince his audiences of the truth and 
importance of his utterances upon any 
subject chosen by him for presentation. 

On the evening of December 15, Mr. 
George Wharton James lectured on 
"Morris, the Man," before the Morris 
Society in Chicago. The parlors of the 
People's Industrial College were filled 
with an appreciative audience. Mr. 
James spoke with his usual enthusiasm 
concerning one whose chief characteristic 
was also enthusiasm. 

The Craftsman announces to socie- 
ties intending to hold Arts and Crafts 
Exhibitions during the present season, that 
it will participate in such by sending ex- 
amples of furniture, metal work and em- 
broidered textiles wrought in the Crafts- 
man workshops: these articles to be sent 
under certain conditions, which will be 
made known to applicants. One of these 
conditions is that, during the progress of 
the Exhibition requesting the cooperation 
of The Craftsman, an illustrated lec- 
ture upon "The Founding and Adorn- 
ment of an Ideal Home" be given by 
George Wharton James, now upon the 
editorial staff of this Magazine. Mr. 
James is widely known in the United 
States as a lecturer and writer upon 
"Americana." He is the author of the 



(HILOSOPHY of Color," by C. 
R. Clifiord, treats of the subject 
of color in a most interesting 
way. The knowledge of color har- 
mony has usually been reg'arded as an oc- 
cult and mysterious accomplishment, but 
by a few simple rules and explanations the 
author has brought the subject within the 
understanding of anyone. 

He explains why, in the furnishing of a 
room, yellows and reds should go into an 
apartment having a northern exposure: as 
there is a deficiency of sunlight in the north 
end of a house, the colors used therein 
should supply this lack of warmth. For 
the same reason, a room having a southern 
exposure would be made positively glaring 



by the use of sunny colors, and in such a 
room deep greens and blues or cold colors 
should be used. He talks of receding and 
advancing colors, and tells what the reced- 
ing colors are and why they make a small 
room look larger; he goes into the illumi- 
nating qualities of white and luminous 
tones and gives innumerable rules for the 
correct way of determining color contrast. 
The colored chart which accompanied the 
book shows not only the primary colors, 
but the nine other colors formed from the 
primaries. It shows also in color the cor- 
rect contrasts and the correct harmonies. 
The woman who is interested in dress will 
understand why green makes her com- 
plexion look fresher, why black takes the 
color out of her face and why white illu- 
minates. Whether in questions of dress 
or in the higher forms of interior decora- 
tion the book treats of the why and the 
wherefore in a way that is easily under- 

[Philosophy of Color, by C. F. Clif- 
ford. New York: Clifford and Lawton. 
Size, 514x8 inches. Pages, seventy-two.] 

When a man starts out to write a "log" 
of a vessel that is not yet built he is cer- 
tainly reversing the usual order of things. 
Yet this is what Donald Maxwell, the 
artist, did, when he began his "Log of the 
Griffin." With an artist's imagination he 
saw a fine field for new adventure in boat- 
ing on the streams that flow into the upper 
reaches of the Rhine in Switzerland. But, 
as he did not wish to make his voyage up 
stream, he went to his starting point in the 
Alps, built his boat and then rowed and 
drifted down the Rhine and back to Lon- 

don. His new book is a lively and vivid 
account of his trip, made more interesting 
by many sketches, some in color, the whole 
making a handsome volume of 300 pages. 
[The Log of the Griffin, 12 mo. $2.00 
net. John Lane, New York.] 

There is no doubt whatever that the 
thinkers and authors of the South are bent 
on showing to the North their side of the 
negro question. That it is not a settled 
question every one who has carefully ex- 
amined it "on the spot" knows. Writers 
like Thomas Nelson Page and Thomas 
Dixon, Jr., know their side of the case and 
present it forcefully, and now Emerson 
Hough has written a strong novel with a 
purpose which demonstrates clearly that 
"The Law of the Land" in the South de- 
mands that the white woman must and 
shall be protected at all hazards. There 
is some strong argument and food for 
thought for the Northerner. The negro 
question is one of which it is necessary to 
know all the aspects in order that the idea 
gained of it may be just and not biased, as 
is too often the case, and Mr. Hough's 
book will help to a clearer knowledge of 
this difficult subject. [The Law of the 
Land, by Emerson Hough: Bobbs-Mer- 
rill Company, Indianapolis.] 

The Cynic's Calendar, our "little 
friend in the gingham dress," has appeared 
again, and is a more amusing companion 
than ever before, and ready to entertain the 
tired worker and give him many a hearty 

This is the mission of the book : to 
amuse, and it fulfils its mission in a very 
satisfactory manner, for he would be in- 



deed a dull man who could not appreciate 
the real wit in the new version of old 
proverbs and in the equally good new fun 
and frolic contained in this edition. The 
illustrations are original and exceedingly 
amusing. For those who wish to forget 
for a time business and worries, this little 
book is invaluable. [The Entirely New 
Cynic's Calendar of Revised Wisdom for 
1905, by Ethel Watts Mumford, Oliver 
Herford and Addison Mizner. San Fran- 
cisco: Paul Elder & Company. Gingham 
Building. Price 75 cents net, postage 5 

"Cats by the Way," by Sarah E. True- 
blood, is a collection of what might be 
called feline biographies. The cats that 
are treated are the ones that every one 
knows; not the aristocratic animal of the 
bench show, but the pussy of the fireside, 
the kitchen and the sitting-room cushion. 
The book is made attractive by numerous 
sketches of cats, large and small, in all 
imaginable positions and poses. [Cats by 
the Way, by Sarah E. Trueblood, Phila- 
delphia: J. B. Lippincott Company; pages, 
115. Price $1.25 net.] 

"A Dog's Tale," by Mark Twain, is a 
delightful little story of dog life, written 
for the purpose of making the same appeal 
for the dog that "Black Beauty" does for 
the horse. The book is gotten up very 
tastefully and is well illustrated in color. 
[A Dog's Tale, by Mark Twain, New 
York: Harper & Brothers; pages, 36. 
Price $1.00.] 


AS an example of the true fraternal 

/A spirit which should exist between 

■^ -*- working men, we publish the 

following from the Ohio Architect and 


"The unusual feat of building a five- 
room cottage, including foundation, plas- 
tering and putting on one coat of paint, in 
a day of ten hours, with a cost to the own- 
er of no more than a chicken dinner for 
the workmen, outside of the material, was 
performed in the little hamlet of Maple 
Grove, near Evansville, Ind. The man 
for whom the cottage was built is Homer 
Rose, and the men who did him the kind- 
ness were fellow-employes. The work 
was superintended by Dee Bacher, a con- 
tracting carpenter. 

Mr. Rose had had lumber and other ma- 
terial on the ground for months. After 
these were bought he discovered that he 
could not go on with his house for lack of 
means. Mr. Bacher called his men 
around him one evening and asked for 
volunteers for one day to build the Rose 
cottage. Many thought it would be im- 
possible to build it in one workday, but the 
contractor declared that he could accom- 
plish the feat if the men in his employ 
would do the work. Twenty-six carpen- 
ters, masons and painters agreed to give 
one day if Mr. Rose would furnish a 
chicken dinner, and a time was fixed when 
all should report at the site of the proposed 

"Every man appeared on time. The 
brick masons went to work laying the 



foundation, while the carpenters busied 
themselves in cutting the joists, studding 
and sills. Every man was assigned to a 
particular part of the work, and the house 
began to go up in a rush. Hundreds of 
persons gathered about and watched the 
workmen. Each of the latter urged his 
fellows on, and when noon came the frame 
work was all up and the chimney had been 

"Then came the dinner. Mrs. Rose, 
assisted by some of her neighbors, had fried 
Uvo dozen chickens. There were ten 
loaves of bread, four dozen ears of boiled 
corn, nearly a bushel of mashed potatoes 
and bowl after bowl of gravy. The des- 
sert consisted of peach cobbler and various 
kinds of pies. The contractor had to call 
off his men for fear that they would eat 
so much that they would not be able to 
finish the job. 

"As soon as the frames were set for the 
windows and the doors the sashes were 
fitted and the lights put in. By this time, 
however, the laths had been put on inside, 
and the sheeting and weatherboarding 
were being placed on the outside, and the 
chimney was being run up by the masons, 
all at the same time. Before the roof was 
on the plasterers were at work, and exactly 
at six o'clock the cottage was finished, all 
but the second coat of paint and the skim 
coat of plaster, neither of which could be 
put on before the first coat had dried. 

"Mr. Bacher complimented his men 
when the job was complete. He said that 
while he had done some 'hurry' work in 
his time, he had never known a house to be 
begun and completed in a day. The cot- 
tage contains five well-lighted rooms and 

a large attic. Everything, even to putting 
on the hinges and locks, was done before 
the men were called off at six o'clock, and 
Mr. Bacher declares that he could have 
completed the work an hour earlier had 
not the men eaten so freely at dinner." 

"To-Morrow" is the name of a new 
sixty-four page magazine, which is to be a 
"hand book of the changing order." Its 
first number appears this month and Oscar 
L. Triggs is the editor. The motto that 
suggests the subtitle is from Tennyson: 

Then slowly answered Arthur from the barge : 
The old order changeth, yielding place to new, 

And God fulfills Himself in many ways 
Lest one good custom should corrupt the world. 

The table of contents for January in- 
cludes articles by the editor, an interesting 
sketch on Bernard Shaw by Nancy Hall 
Musselman, "Literary Style" by Clarence 
Darrow, a symposium on "Lessons of the 
Election," etc., etc. The home of the 
magazine is 1926 Indiana avenue, Chi- 
cago, Illinois. 

The Outlook has just cause for con- 
gratulation in its long-continued prosperity 
and popularity. It loses none of its old 
time power and prestige under the editor- 
ship of Lyman Abbott. Pick up any num- 
ber of its weekly issues, and there is good 
enough material in it to write several re- 
views. We do not always exactly agree 
with what is written, nor is it necessary we 
should. But in the main it is the most 
sane, most influential, most thoroughly use- 
ful religious weekly published in the Eng- 
lish speaking world. In the November 
19 issue are two excellent articles, one on 
"The Governor-elect of Massachusetts" by 



R. L. Bridgeman, and the other on "Amer- 
ican Religious Ideals" by Lyman Abbott. 
Mr. Bridgeman gives a brief but clear 
word picture of the man of labor who has 
just been elevated to the high and respon- 
sible position of Governor of the great 
State of Massachusetts. Dr. Abbott sets 
forth our religious ideal in his usual com- 
mon sense fashion, and happy is that man 
who finds himself in accord with the true 
spirit of national religion as there de- 
picted. Mr. C. C. Smith also writes 
helpfully on "Helping the Negro to Help 

In the Cosmopolitan for December, 
Charlotte Perkins Gilman writes an article 
on "The Passing of the Home in Great 
American Cities," that will startle the ul- 
tra conservative. She believes that in 
abandoning the house for the apartment or 
the hotel we are on the road to a better 
thing ; the advantages of the house having 
been greatly overestimated. But, in time, 
when family hotels are made — as families 
will demand that they shall be — we shall 
find more real "home life" in them than 
was possible in the separate and detached 
house. The concluding words of her ar- 
ticle are forceful: "It is this change in 
the heart of the world which is changing 
the house of the world, and its ultimate 
meaning is good. Let us then study, un- 
derstand, and help to hasten this passing 
onward to better things of our beloved 
American home. Let us not be afraid, but 
lead the world in larger living." 

Other interesting articles in the same 
number are: "Canning and Preserving," 
"Racial and Ideal Types of Beauty," "The 

End of the Steam Age," with the usual 
amount of readable fiction. 

In "Vindication : Tardy but Complete," 
in the English Review of Reviews, Mr. 
Stead gives a personal and intricate ac- 
count for the benefit of his friends of his 
attitude for thirty-five years as a journalist 
and worker for peace. He shows how the 
recent trouble with the Russians over the 
disastrous firing upon the Hull fleet was 
referred to a court of arbitration under cer- 
tain articles for which he had fought, al- 
most unaided and alone, at The Hague 
Conference. It is a remarkable statement, 
demonstrating what one man, "without of- 
fice or rank, wealth or position," can ac- 
complish, when, unselfishly, and without 
fear or favor, he calls upon the Nation to 
live its higher and better self. 

In "The Book of the Month," in this 
issue, Mr. Stead gives an admirable review 
of the life of Bishop Creighton, and all 
who find stimulus for mind and soul in 
seeing what great and good men have 
thought and done in their private lives will 
here have abundant cause for joy. 

If for nothing else but Mark Twain's 
"Saint of Joan of Arc" and Howard Pyle's 
wonderful illustrations for it every 
Craftsman reader should obtain the De- 
cember Harper's. This sketch gives the 
first authentic account in English of the 
real life and trial of the brave French hero- 
ine. It is a notable historic contribution. 
Another equally valuable piece of history 
is Warren Hasting's letter, giving his own 
account of his impeachment. Those inter- 
ested in personal and vivid accounts of 
birds will much enjoy Ernest IngersoU's 



article on "The Unfortunate Birds of the 
Night." Mr. Ingersoll always writes 
sympathetically and this is in his best style. 

If you wish to know something personal 
about Emerson's great power read what 
Henry James, Sr., has said of him in the 
December Atlantic Monthly. Here two 
great natures are fascinatingly set in con- 
trast. S. M. Crothers also sets one a- 
thinking in his "Christmas: Its Unfin- 
ished Business," and William James's "Re- 
marks at the Peace Banquet" will help the 
thought along. 

A bright, sprightly, interesting magazine 
of travel and education is The Four 
Track News, published by George H. 
Daniels of the New York Central and 
edited by that accomplished and genial gen- 
tleman, J. K. LeBaron. For those who 
like short, crisp articles about things this 
magazine is excellent. Its stafl of writers 
is large and includes many notable names. 
The December number is full of excel- 
lently illustrated reading. 

The Booklovers' Magazine for Decem- 
ber opens with a touching and beautiful 
Christmas message by Charles Wagner. 
As might be expected from the author of 
"The Simple Life," this is a heart message 
given only to those who read words in or- 
der to get at thought and emotion. The 
Story of how he discovered that Our Lady 
of Christmas was his own dear mother is 
touching in the extreme. 

There is also an educative article on 
"The Real Australia" by Burriss Gahan, 
which contains some startling statements, 
as that Australia is "the foremost pastoral 

country in the world." Politically it is 
interesting to know that "for the first 
time in history the government of a great 
country has been entrusted to a Labor 
Ministry of hod-carriers, miners, engine- 
drivers, printers and school teachers, with 
a day-laborer for their Premier." It is a 
singular country "of great cities on the 
one hand, and on the other vast tracts of 
hopeless desert. It is, indeed, a curious 
continent of opposites and extremes, where 
half of nature is wrong side foremost." 

There are also fine photographs of 
twelve of our most distinguished writers. 
The colored pictures are already gaining 
great fame for the Booklovers'. 

Were you ever a country lad, far away 
from books and paintings and general op- 
portunities such as all lads now-a-days 
have in large cities? If you were, then 
you can understand what I mean when I 
say that the Christmas Country Life in 
America came to me with some of the same 
glad surprise we used to feel when a coun- 
try lad and a new seed catalogue full of 
colored pictures came into our hands. 
For this number contains several excel- 
lently executed engravings in color of 
flowers and fruits. The whole number is 
devoted to Christmas, with such writers 
and subjects as "Christmas in the Open" 
by Hamilton Mabie, "Christmas on an 
Orchard Farm" by L. H. Bailey, "Christ- 
mas for the Birds and Animals" by J. 
Horace McFarland, and many others. 
Altogether a memorable number, well 
written, well edited, well illustrated, well 
printed and deser\'ing of being well read 
and then well cared for for future refer- 
ence and pleasure. 





"There's a neiu foot »n the floor, my friend, 
And a neiu face at the door, my friend 
A neiu face at the door." 



HE Open Door continues its mission 
of carrying its home messages to 
thousands of firesides and offices in a 
friendly and informal way, greatly strength- 
ened and encouraged by the prompt wel- 
come and recognition of its value, by many 
new and old patrons. 

The clearly defined purpose is to make 
this department more and more interesting 
and attractive from month to month, which 
can only be accomplished by the courtesy 
and favor of the arts, crafts and industries 
naturally allied in the broad field of The 
Craftsman's endeavor. 

Few magazines reach the family with 
a home message in which home-makers are 
directly interested, and none that appeals so 
helpfully, sanely and directly to a large, 
thoughtful, and select home audience, as 
The Craftsman, fostering, as it does, the 
building ambitions of man, the home- 
making instincts of woman and art prob- 
lems in all lines. 
As the value of an announcement depends upon the chance it has of "being seen" or 
read, this chance diminishes in exact ratio with the bulk of other advertisements massed 
in a single publication. 

The Craftsman's proportion of reading matter to advertising pages is exception- 
ally large, the latter being naturally restricted to enterprises more or less allied to its 
purpose and mission, which is in itself, an obvious advantage as a standard source of easy 
reference for the thoughtful seeker after the best. 

The Open Door is wide open to enterprising advertisers, and its courtesies will be 
cordially extended in a liberal spirit to The Cr.\ftsman's patrons. 

WRITE FOR It is hoped that the readers of these Open Door messages will get 
PARTICULARS something more than a passing impression from the suggestions 
drawn from so many and varied sources. The special information 
given, relating to the several subjects, is of value even to the general reader, and in 
almost every instance the representative concerns using the business pages of The 
Craftsman issue a catalogue, booklet, or other commercial literature, which can be had 
for the asking. 


The investment of a postal card addressed to these firms will bring interesting and 
valuable returns in the form of special information, which is very "handy to have in the 
house," as well as in one's head, for use as occasion may require. 

The Craftsman's readers will confer a threefold benefit, — one upon its patrons, 
one upon themselves, and one upon The Craftsman, — by kindly taking the trouble to 
write for "further particulars" to any of The Craftsman advertisers, not forgetting 
to mention The Craftsman. 

J* J* 
"THE KING OF Elsewhere in The Craftsman's business department will be 
WOODS" found a full-page illustration of the great receiving yards of the 

well-known New York firm of William E. Uptegrove & Brother, 
the leading manufacturers of mahogany, other cabinet woods, and veneers. In a future 
issue. The Craftsman hopes to present a number of illustrations of the rare grain 
effects of various woods, including mahogany, from samples furnished by this company. 

It is always cheering to find real art enthusiasm at home in the commercial atmos- 
phere of a great business enterprise, and it is a pleasure to record here the sentiments of 
the senior partner of this enterprising firm, gathered in a recent interview: 

Mr. William E. Uptegrove said : "We have called mahogany the king of woods — 
it is certainly all of that ; it is like old wine, the older it grows the better and more beau- 
tiful it is ; it has a warmth of tone and color peculiar to itself alone, while Nature has 
endowed it with a beauty and variety of grain that is almost endless, making it a very 
interesting study. It has an air of aristocratic and gentle breeding. The more rarely 
marked or the more richly marked logs, which are commercially known as figured logs, 
are sought for much as are precious stones, and when the product of one of these is 
reduced through the cabinet-maker's art, it may truly be called the poetry of wood." 

There is food for thought in this impromptu eulogy which may serve to awaken 
interest in the study of the real and abiding beauty with which nature has endowed her 
forest children, even when the woodman's axe has failed to "spare the tree." And it is 
a part of The Cr.4FTSman's privilege and mission to encourage the love of natural 
beauty in a simple and natural way. 

MARQUETRIE AS A The art of marquetrie finds its highest expression in this 
FINE ART country under the personal inspiration and direction of 

that enthusiastic New York artist, Mr. George H. Jones, 
more familiarly known to the art public as "Jones the Marquetrie Man." A visit to his 
establishment at 407 Second avenue. New York, reveals the fact that it is the abiding 
place of the rarest secrets of the craftsmanship handed down from France and Holland 
ancestry from generation to generation. For a dozen years Mr. Jones has brought the 
practice of his art up to the level of the best craft of Europe, and the ablest connoisseurs 
all over the country acknowledge his leadership. 



The secret of his success is not far to seek, for Mr. Jones is the presiding genius of 
the place, and personally selects the rare materials, originates his own designs, prepares 
the costly inlays and finishes the work in his own workshops. Nothing is neglected by 
this enthusiastic artist which makes for perfection. The same hand which saws the 
inlay, saws the ground-work, and the same artist assembles the woods, ivories and pearls, 
or precious metals, which it is to receive. 

Many of its happiest effects in wood inlays are obtained by developing the shadows 
from the darker veinings of the woods, or by artistically varying the direction of the 
fibers or grain of his veneers. In the marquetrie borders now so frequently employed to 
emphasize the constructive lines of interior architecture and furniture, rare dyes have 
their place, and these also Mr. Jones personally prepares. 

The beautiful designs, carefully wrought pieces of natural woods, the tender and 
harmonious color schemes, well conceived, and spirited modelings, together with the 
many delicate and original processes introduced by Mr. Jones, here show the art of 
marquetrie in its latest stage of perfection and entitle the artist to his acknowledged 
distinction as "Jones the Marquetrie Man." 

BEAUTY, HEALTH The illustrated announcement on page v affords a sugges- 
AND ECONOMY tion only of some of the charming effects made possible by the 

use of the new wall covering, Leatherole, which may fairly 
claim to be the latest triumph of art, science and sanitation, to meet the demand, not 
only for a durable, handsome and inexpensive wall decoration, but also for a cleanly one. 

In quality, variety and beauty of design, Leatherole outclasses all previous attempts 
in producing the finest effects of the costly foreign decorations, and rivals even the expen- 
sive Japanese leathers in elegance and durability, and surpasses it in variety of color 

The oil colorings on cloth foundation, covering a wide range of artistic designs, 
both standard and special, and the possibilities and adaptability of Leatherole, unite all 
the essentials of a high class wall covering at a comparatively moderate cost. 

A visit to the exhibition rooms of the Leatherole Company, at 142 West Twenty- 
third street. New York, will delight the art lover, whether he is a professional decorator 
or is simply interested in combining beauty, durability and healthfulness in the environ- 
ments of the home. 

ONEIDA For years the Oneida Community Experiment was watched 

COMMUNITY with great interest all over the world. When, after forty-two 
SILVERWARE years of communal life, the discipline and training which the peo- 
ple had received were utilized in the organization of a Stock 
Company to carry on the various industries the community had established. 

As the years have gone on this Company has grown, until now it has five large 



factories and plants, all of which are doing remarkable work. The food products of 
the Oneida Community command the highest price of any similar foods in the United 
States, and the demand is always greater than the supply. They have no real com- 
petitor in the field of steel traps of every kind. 

In the making of plated silverware the name of "Community Silver" is a guar- 
antee of excellent workmanship, while the further written pledge of the Company 
guarantees that if the plating does not last twenty-five years, the pieces will be re- 
placed. The heads and managers of the Company are men of tried integrity, and with 
those who know them their word is as good as a bank bond. Hence their businesses 
have gone on increasing, year after year. Many new and beautiful designs are shown 
in table silver of every kind, and its lasting quality commends it to the provident 

The new "Flower-de-Luce" pattern is a fine specimen of new art in silverware, 
and nothing can be nicer as a Christmas present for those who do not wish to go to 
the expense of solid silver, than a set of this Oneida Community' silverware. 

* Jt 
BEGINNING THE The Open Door has no use for a pessimist, especially at the 
NEW YEAR threshold of the New Year, when hope and courage should 

lead the way, leaving behind all the blunders, mistakes and 
croakings with the past, where they belong. More smiles and fewer tears mark the 
succeeding years as the world's record runs, and among the many proofs that the world 
is taking better care of itself, by increasing the sum of human happiness, is the steady and 
almost marvelous growth of life insurance as an economic force in the progress of 

Thoughtful men of all sorts and conditions, as a rule, now provide this safeguard 
for their families, and the management of the many great companies has been reduced to 
a financial science. 

As custodians of present savings for future need, and provision for dependents, the 
leading life insurance companies outrank the savings banks, in the judgment of the con- 
servative financiers of to-day. 

The moral of this homily will be found on page ii in our business department in 
the very suggestive and somewhat laconic announcement of the Penn Mutual Life 
Insurance Company of Philadelphia. Those of our readers who neglected the Christ- 
mas legacy suggestion by this company, in the December Craftsman, will find the door 
still open, and a fresh opportunity to begin the New Year well, by taking thought for 
"those we really love." 

THE TIFFANY Tiffany & Co. have just published the 1905 edition of their annual 

BLUE BOOK Blue Book, the last to be issued from their old Union Square 

store, as within the next few months the firm will remove to their 

new home on Fifth avenue. This most recent Blue Book, with its 490 pages, conven- 



I'ent side index and handsome leather binding, is a gradual development of a modest 
little thirty-page leaflet — their first catalogue — issued just sixty years ago. 

The house was then known as Tiffany, Young & Ellis, located at Broadway and 
Chambers street, and through all these years, while the catalogue has broadened and kept 
abreast of the constantly growing business, it has retained two of its distinctly individual 
features which were quite as notable in 1845 as to-day. These are its compactness of 
form and careful avoidance of illustration. 

Tiffany & Co. thus early found it inexpedient to issue an illustrated catalogue, as 
their richer goods are not frequently duplicated and most designs are soon superseded by 
the introduction of new patterns. 

The Tiffany Blue Book gives concise descriptions and range of prices of nearly 
everything sold by this unique establishment, from the most inexpensive trifles to the 
richest gem jewelry and artistic merchandise. It is an invaluable guide for shoppers and 
it is to be had for the asking. 

THE "OLD STYLE" Builders will recall a period just thirty years ago, in the 
ROOFING importing days of roofing tin, when competition became very 

keen among the Welsh makers, and equally keen among the 
growing numbers of importers and distributers of the product in America. The con- 
sequence was that very poor materials began to be used, with the result of very bad 
roofing tin. Iron was used in those days, but the roofing tin was so bad that it cracked 
and rusted out upon the slightest exposure, and the evil was so pronounced that it very 
quickly reacted in favor of the old standard. This enabled the N. G. Taylor Company 
to emphasize the merits of their "Old Style" brand, and with the increased consumption 
of roofing tin their brand from that time became more and more prominent, and has 
continued since uninterruptedly, without any change in its high standard of quality, 
leading all kinds of competition. 

FURNACE FACTS To extract from coal all the heat units, and to produce the 
AND FIGURES maximum heat from a ton of any grade, to abate the smoke, 

soot and dirt nuisance, to obviate all danger from escaping 
gases, and to reduce clinkers and ashes to their minimum, would seem to be the ulti- 
matum in the science of heating by furnace. 

The Peck-Williamson Heating and Ventilating Company of Cincinnati, Ohio, 
have made these points the subject of study and demonstration in their Underfeed 
Furnace, and have produced one of the most powerful heaters on the market. All who 
are interested in learning more about the anatomy and physiology of their Underfeed 
Furnace should send to the home office at Cincinnati, Ohio, for their very interesting 



THE THREAD AND THRUM The announcement on page iv will be welcomed 
WORKSHOPS by many readers of The Craftsmax as meeting 

the happily increasing demand for "honest sim- 
plicity of woven textiles" in serviceable floor coverings, portieres, and other furnishings, 
made by the skilled craftsmen of the Thread and Thrum Workshops in Hyannis, Mass. 

Materials in these woven stuffs are cotton, wool and part cotton and wool. These 
materials are made available in every shade and weight desired. The rugs are woven 
seamless to a width of twelve feet and to any length desired. The scale of sizes is unique 
and very complete, as everj' least measurement can be secured in special orders, which 
are filled very promptly — a 9x12 being delivered in eight or ten days from receipt of 
formal order. 

Special decorative needs are supplied by specially ordered stuffs to harmonize with 
or establish the color scheme of wall paper and wall hangings, woodwork, upholstery, 
windows and verandas. 

SEASIDE HOMES The owner of a delightful reservation of thirty-five acres, 
TO RENT located on the shore of Vineyard Sound, two and one-half miles 

from Vineyard Haven, and directly opposite Wood's Holl, 
offers for rental for the coming season two summer homes, especially suited to the wishes 
of families who desire to avoid the crowded shore resorts, and, at the same time, to enjoy 
the comforts of a well-equipped home in a retired but easily accessible locality. 

The illustration on page xix in our business department presents both the exterior 
of a new Craftsman house, with its spacious living room, with all the appointments of 
the nine rooms and bath complete and ready for occupancy with the opening of the 

The situation commands an open view of the Sound and its traffic, and the reser- 
vation includes half a mile of shore front with its excellent bathing, and opportunities 
for boating and fishing, with pleasant groves and attractive drives within easy distance. 

A neighboring farm house of five rooms, which has also been remodeled, is also 
offered for rental to either a small family, or in connection \vith the other house. The 
owner is also prepared to build one or more houses if desired by the right parties, but the 
entire reserv^ation will be restricted to absolutely unobjectionable occupants, whether 
lessees or owners. The rent of the new house is $550 for the season, and for the remod- 
eled farm house only $200. 

SAFETY "Anything new on the subject of safety in railroad travel is 

TO PASSENGERS likely to receive a great deal of attention these days," said an 
old railway official in a recent conversation. "Take, for in- 
stance, a line like the Chicago & North-Western," he continued, "where there are over 
seventeen hundred stations on the system, with a tributary population of more than 



seven and one-half million people, reaching almost every community of importance in 
nine of the Western States. Now, the question of thorough discipline of the big army 
of employees required on a road like that, is one that's enough to stun the average man. 

"It is a great thing, though," continued the veteran, "to see the way in which some 
of the western roads have not only kept pace with the growing traffic, but have looked 
ahead into the future and taken a wholesome grasp on this question of safety, steadily 
expending millions of dollars in order to take care of these millions of Americans who 
travel over their lines. 

"The North-Western Line maintains no less than six hundred and ten electric 
block signals, one hundred and twenty-six interlocking plants, over nine thousand miles 
of telegraph line, over forty thousand miles of wire and a force of seventeen hundred tele- 
graph dispatchers and operators in the movement of their traffic. Besides this there is an 
army of crossing watchmen, operators of safety gates, signal-tower men, track walkers ; 
in short, a highly organized system looking after the safety of patrons. Their widely 
announced 'only double track' to the Missouri River is one of the most aggressive moves 
ever made by a railway, and one the bearing of which upon the question is obvious. 

"The greatest dependence is, however, on that process of training on Western 
roads that keeps the heads of departments in close touch with their men, requires unceas- 
ing vigilance on the part of everyone concerned and results in a force brought up to the 
point of highest discipline. This training the North-Western and other roads give their 
men nothing else can take the place of in safeguarding the traveling public." 

UNIQUE COVER In no department of paper manufacturing has more progress 
PAPERS been shown than in the evolution of what is generally known to 

the trade as "cover papers," which, however, have a variety of 
uses, including poster work and various other commercial forms of artistic advertising. 

Among the leaders in this department, the Niagara Paper Mills, at Lockport, N. Y., 
enjoy a wide and well earned reputation among the printing craft, for the novelty and 
variety of their special textures, colorings and weights. Many of the most effective and 
artistic commercial brochures and announcements are lent a fresh charm by the deco- 
rative use of the Niagara Mills paper. 

The William Morris portrait in this number of The Craftsman is mounted on 
Niagara Mills Italia paper and demonstrates the possibilities of this stock, for artistic 

J* jt 

A FEW MORE Again the Open Door finds brief space for a few very recent "words 
FRIENDLIES of cheer" from widely scattered sections of the country. For 
these, and many others, The Craftsman returns sincere thanks 
and its best assurances that it will continue to strive to merit all the good things its good 
friends so kindly bestow. 


From M. E. Sargent, Librarian Medford Public Library, Medford, Mass.: "We 
do not wish our files of The Craftsman broken, as we appreciate the value of the 
magazine, and it is much consulted by our patrons." 

From Lewis F. Stephany, Pittsburg, Pa.: "Have become deeply interested in the 
various lines of art and crafts advocated in The Craftsman — which valuable maga- 
zine I get regularly from my bookshop (Davis's)." 

From Irene S. Monroe, Palos Park, 111. : "I thank you very much for the October 
copy of The Craftsman, which you kindly sent in response to an inquiry. I have read 
it from cover to cover, and found everything educative and inspirational — even the 

From Mrs. Guilford S. Wood, Denver, Col.: "The Craftsman is a perfect 
delight, and I feel that it is doing real missionary work in the field of 'simple living.' I 
promise myself a new home some day founded upon the principles it embodies." 

"From Cornelia I. Gaskell, Brooklyn, N. Y. : "I have certainly been pleased with 
The Craftsman. I have found it very interesting, and very helpful also in my teach- 
ing of art in the Normal School at Athens." 

From William R. Holbrook, Minneapolis, Minn.: "I have read with great inter- 
est The Craftsman for the past year, from the Library. It appeals to all the aspira- 
tions in me and stirs my heart at the possibilities of my own nature — artistic and con- 

From Matthew J. Smith, New York City: "I am very much pleased with The 
Craftsman, and as I now am contemplating a summer home on the Hudson, I know I 
can get some very valuable information in regard to style and interior decorations in 
regard to same. . . . You can count on me as one of your future subscribers, and pos- 
sibly some of my friends." 

From Henry M. Hiester, Millmont, Mercersburg, Pa.: "The magazine is 
very fine in its advocacy of honest and sterling workmanship, and the selection of beau- 
tiful objects for illustration. There are some charming effects given by skillful use 
of light and shade and the immunity from the scroll saw and turning lathe is beyond 

From Charles C. Pickett, Urbana, 111.: "I have been much interested in your 
work and feel that you are entitled to the support of all who believe in a healthier 



industrial organization. It is a pleasure to acknowledge the great value of your en- 
deavor. May you have better success, if possible, in future." 

From E. E. Roberts, Oak Park, 111.: "I was so favorably impressed with the 
magazine shown me, that I at once became a subscriber to your magazine. I wish to 
compliment you upon it." 

"Ah! we are all rich if we but know it," once said M. Charles Wagner, the author 
of "The Simple Life." "The world is for those who can use it. Did you know I am 
the owner of the finest park in the world? Yes! because I use it. 

"I was once in a great park owned by Prince Wagram. It was a wonderful park, 
with trees, fields, flowers, everything of great beauty. The owner never came near it. 
So one day I went in and I introduced myself to it. I was well received by the trees, 
the birds, the flowers, the grass. They all spoke well, as if they knew they belonged 
to me, and I was having a most happy and joyous time when the watchman came and 
asked, 'What are you doing?' 'Doing?' I replied, 'I'm enjoying my park!' 'Your 
park! What do you mean?' said the indignant watchman. 'This isn't your park. It 
belongs to Prince Wagram 1' 'Well ! that may be so,' I replied, 'but you do not under- 
stand. The prince comes here never. I come. I enjoy it. The ants, the grass, the 
animals, the flowers, the trees, the whole park, the clouds above, all recognize me and 
speak to me as their owner and possessor. They speak to me as they have never done 
to Prince Wagram. They can understand me because they know me. That is why 
the park is mine!' " 

ONLY ONE From George M. Carr, Durango, Colo., Dec 14, 1904: "I have 
FAULT just one fault to find with your magazine, and that is: It doesn't 

come often enough. You are giving us much of good each month, and 
I would feel lost without the magazine. I wisli every intelligent person had the read- 
ing of the magazine each month. You have undertaken a big task when you attempt 
to educate the public in matters of taste, for it is almost a minor quantity with the 
greater part. 

"Your series of houses for the year can but tell what a home may be. In deciding 
which plans I want, it is difScult, for the last four of the series are all so perfect. I 
think you may send me No. 1 1 from the November number. With a change in the 
second floor it will more fully meet my needs, although any of those mentioned could 
but content one. 

"I trust that The Craftsman may grow in subscription as it deserves (I can 
wish it no greater prosperity) for the new year now so near." 


Late Mayor of Toledo, Ohio 

See article page 5jo 


"All free governments are in reality governments by public opinion It is, there- 
fore, their first dut)' to purify the element from which they dravir the breath of Viit."— James Russell 
Latiiell, in '"Democracy." 

REE TO ALL" is the inscription placed above the en- 
trance of the t\'pical library of the United States: the 
one which best represents the spirit and the working 
of a modern movement second to none in all that makes 
for the progress and pleasure of the people. For thou- 
sands of years the library idea has been in process of 
development, specializing the effort to make books accessible to the 
student. It has struggled for existence against the gravest difficulties, 
both material and immaterial, the last of which now appears to be 
well advanced toward solution. 

Once an alphabet had superseded pictographs, the dififusion of ac- 
curate knowledge became practicable, although the medium of dif- 
fusion was wanting in pliability. Clay cylinders impressed with 
cuneiform characters were the first cumbersome repositories of formu- 
lated and transcribed learning. But the people in the modern sense 
were not yet born. Then there existed only tyrants and slaves. There 
could be no need for the public library. Fables served the masses for 
history, drama and fiction. In these traditional tales animals were 
made to talk and to express sentiments upon government, rulers and 
the conduct of life in general, which it would have been death for the 
crouching slave to utter. 

Under such conditions, the library was a treasury of royal arch- 
ives. The idea existed in its embryo stage, and against its develop- 
ment the strongest forces were active. On the one hand, the resist- 
ance of the material form of what later was to be the book. On the 
other, the mental and moral condition of the teeming masses of the 

In the following stage, we find the idea still struggling, but exist- 
ing in an environment of order. Scrolls and later papyri, inscribed 
with highly developed letters, representing in visible form the thought 
of minds supreme in their own spheres, were guarded in presses and 
cases; security being thus afforded to the treasures of learning, and, 
at the same time, economy of space being assured. A type of library 
was now reached, an example of which has persisted to the present 
day, in the same city which fostered the development of this special 



form: that is, the closed library, represented perfectly by that of 
the Vatican, which is a place for the preservation of books ; no thought 
being taken to provide for their accessibility, and a palatial splendor 
being maintained in the formal decoration and appointments of the 
great hall, which architecturally conceals its purpose. 

In these two primitive types, the library existed simply for the 
preservation of books, and as a means of displaying the wealth and 
pride of some succession of sovereigns, desirous to be known as patrons 
of learning, or as collectors of literary treasures. The people had as 
yet no part in that immaterial, but durable wealth of thought amassed, 
for the most part, in humble dwelling, or narrow cell. The use of 
books was an insignificant factor in this library system. 

But the Middle Ages gave new development and growth to the 
library idea. The rise of a distinctly learned class, of the monastery 
and the college, extended the use of books. Side by side with the 
library of archives, there developed both the circulating and the ref- 
erence library; the former of which, we may say, had its birth in the 
monk's carrel, and the latter in the college alcove. In these days of 
ephemeral literature, of hasty reading, of rapid printing and distri- 
bution, we can scarcely imagine the restrictions put upon the monk 
permitted to draw but a single book during a year, and expected, on 
the day of its return to the library, to give, in chapter, a summing up 
of its contents. But realizing this condition of things, we can readily 
believe Professor Lounsbury, who, in his Life of Chaucer, observes 
that even as late as the time of that poet, it required a century for a 
book to become known. In the carrels, or well-lighted squares, set 
along the cloisters, such as we see them in the old Abbey of St. Peter, 
now the Cathedral of Gloucester, the mediaeval monks sat long hours 
of the day, enjoying the sweet serenity of the books loaned to them 
from the collection of their religious house. In the reference library, 
the same abundance of light was secured by means of the alcove 
which, in reality, was but an extended carrel, along the sides of which 
shelving was fixed, in order to hold the books lying upon their back 
covers and at an inclination, or else standing upright, with their front 
edges out, as in the Library of the University of Leyden. In some in- 
stances, also, further comfort was assured to the readers by the intro- 
duction of seats, or lecterns. But the book which created a necessity 
for the repository, or library, was chained and stapled to its place. 



Learning, restricted to a comparatively limited class of individuals, 
was made difficult and forbidding even to the few who were permitted 
to share in its benefits. In several instances, the old universities dis- 
play upon their seals a closed volume, which, later, we find replaced 
by the open book, as in the case of our own Harvard, founded in the 
third decade of the seventeenth century. 

In this, the third stage of its existence, the library acquired one 
feature of its modern character. It became a place of reference, of 
consultation, in addition to its original purpose as a place for the 
storage of archives. The difficulty of development was henceforth 
to be concentrated in the question of how to diffuse the knowledge 
contained in the storehouse, the dearth of which was felt only vaguely 
by those who suffered from it, because they had never known the joys 
of possession. At this stage, the development of the library idea was 
arrested for a long period. The Revival of Learning was a move- 
ment necessarily restricted to activity among scholars. Applied sci- 
ence and mechanical invention were needed to allow and to further 
the diffusion of knowledge, by multiplying means of communication 
and transit, by devising schemes for rendering great collections of 
books accessible. These were the material obstacles lying in the path 
of the library idea. But the immaterial obstacles were yet graver; 
for not until after the revolutions of the eighteenth century did the 
people exist as a corporate body. 

What has been named, not inaptly, "the library sleep" fell upon 
the learned world. It lasted four hundred years, until, at the middle 
of the nineteenth century, its deadening power passed away, and the 
new movement for the diffusion of knowledge among the people arose 
simultaneously in England and in America. The proper functions 
of the institution were then, for the first time understood, and they 
have been expressed in strong, although homely, phrase by the one 
who said that the library should not henceforth be, as in its earlier 
stages, like the town pump, from which the townspeople come to draw 
water, but that, like municipal water-works, it should deliver a prime 
necessity upon the premises of the consumer. 

Through this enlarged and modernized conception, the library 
idea attained maturity and perfection. It yet remained to be real- 
ized, and, in this, as in all other cases, the condensation to reality has 
been slow, difficult, and at times, discouraging. In its workings it 



still presents faults which the united efforts of the architect and the 
librarian can alone eliminate. The arrangement of the library build- 
ing is a many-sided question in which partial answers must be ac- 
cepted, until, process after process having been worked out, the solu- 
tion of the whole problem shall be accomplished. 

The correct model of a building having become the desideratum 
of all those interested in the development of the library, various the- 
ories of construction were naturally put to the test. Experiments in 
this branch of architecture multiplied during the third quarter of the 
nineteenth century, the greater part of which have already proven 
their insufficiency to serve the needs of the public. At the same time, 
these partial successes were made failures only by the great increase 
in the book collections and the number of readers, and by the conse- 
quently necessitated increase in the size of the buildings themselves. 
They therefore deserve to be studied as stages in the evolution of the 
library building : certain of them having developed, for the first time, 
features which are to-day in use under highly specialized forms. 

Early in the period mentioned, two very important libraries were 
erected in Massachusetts: the one in Boston, created with limitations 
which, within thirty years, destroyed its usefulness ; the other in Cam- 
bridge, being the library of Harvard University, and proving its 
value, not as a temporary expedient, but as a scheme of permanent 
character capable of yet greater development. The Boston structure, 
since characterized as of "the conventional type," consisted of a main 
room (Bates Hall), high, wide and long, lined from floor to ceiling 
with tier upon tier of alcoves and galleries. It was designed with 
the view of closely concentrating the books, in order to minimize both 
space in storage and time in service. This scheme proved inadequate 
to the needs of a great, developing community, as well as insufficient 
in its facilities for lighting, aeration, accessibility to the collections, 
quiet and retirement. It was incapable of expansion, and the ar- 
rangement of books around a large hall is now considered obsolete. 

The other structure, destined, for reasons to be explained, to be- 
come notable in the history of library edifices, took the exterior form 
of a late Gothic building, recalling the Chapel of King's College, 
Cambridge, England; while the interior developed the inherited uni- 
versity library type. A few years later, the so-called "stack system" 
was first put to use in this building, by the architects, Messrs. Ware 

























and Van Brunt, who invented it and reduced it to practical form, 
under the careful supervision of the library authorities of the time 
and of the widely cultured and thoroughly practical President of the 

The aim of this system is to afford the most compact storage of 
books, together with great ease of access to every portion of the build- 
ing; the stack consisting of a cage of metallic shelving, divided at 
intervals of seven feet, by open-work, or glass floors; every shelf being 
within reach from some one of the floors, and the stories being super- 
imposed to the height of from forty to forty-five feet. 

This method certainly attains the chief end for which it was de- 
vised, beside assuring the rapid conveyance of the books from the 
shelves to the reading room. At the same time, it contains faults 
which, while they do not invalidate it, are yet sufficiently serious to 
warrant consideration. The objections brought against the stack- 
system have been excellently formulated by an expert librarian exer- 
cising his functions in a building of the type which he criticises. He 
is, therefore, entitled to respectful hearing when he says that "no mode 
of heating and ventilation will prevent the air from being overheated, 
especially as it is generally judged necessary to have the building open 
up to the roof, in order to secure sky light. Further, the stack does 
not admit of the proper lighting of the books on the shelves, except 
by artificial means ; the window light coming into the passages as into 
tunnels, and being of little service to show the titles of the books. 
Again, in the efTort to admit as much light as possible into the stack, 
the windows are made so large that only by the greatest care in the 
use of shutters or curtains, can the books near these large exposed 
areas be protected against injury from the direct rays of the sun. 
Finally, little or no provision can be made for the access of readers to 
the shelves ; the idea of the stack being that of a place to keep the 
books when they are not in use." 

The same authority further shows that his last statement involves 
one of the most serious objections to the stack system; that seats can 
not be conveniently placed near the shelves, especially when the floors 
are perforated; that the stack, generally constructed upon a small 
area, is carried to such a height as to involve high staircases; and 
that to enlarge the area of the stack is to prevent lighting the interior 
from the sides: the only means remaining available, since the inter- 



vening floors intercept the greater portion of the light which enters 
from above. It may be said in conclusion that the points made by the 
expert, each of which is of considerable weight, are re-inforced by 
the fact of the danger of great loss in case of fire: the danger arising 
from the compact massing of the books, and the latter inviting the 
flames along their backs and edges; although, on the other hand, it 
must be admitted that the occurrence of fire is a remote contingency, 
since the metallic cage of the stack is practically a fire-proof structure. 

Of the system just reviewed the Boston Public Library is the most 
conspicuous example. Its merits in the service of the people have 
been already tested by a term of years, and they have been found to be 
many and great. Therefore, the stack system can not be condemned 
in the face of its proven value; while additional confidence in its 
worth arises from its adoption in this instance ; the scheme of the actu- 
ally existing Boston Library having been promoted by a highly en- 
lightened public, fostered by wise legislation, largely aided by private 
munificence, and developed by the most competent specialists: a com- 
bination rarely paralleled in our country, and presumably sufficiently 
strong to prevent lapse into grave error. As a work of architecture, 
this great organism can not be dismissed without comment, which 
must be reserved until later, in order to gain a basis of comparison 
with another type of library, differing from it in methods of service 
and consequently also in structural features. 

This opposing type, shown in the Newberry Library, in Chicago, 
represents what may be termed a decentralized system of arrange- 
ment, which is sometimes also named from the noted librarian, Poole, 
who developed it into practical usefulness. It is of too recent origin 
and employment to warrant valid criticism of its excellences or its 
defects, which, like those of the stack system, must be subjected to the 
judgment of time and service, the only authoritative tribunals. It is 
possible, therefore, but to describe what advantages it aims to afford 
and what errors to avoid, as well as to hazard an opinion as to its 
effect upon the external appearance of the building in which it pre- 
vails. To the centralized, compact masses of books characteristic 
of the stack system it opposes a series of department libraries; plac- 
ing each of these collections on a separate floor, or in a separate room, 
in a building with fire-proof floors and partitions, by which fire can 
be limited, and the loss occasioned through it confined to a single sec- 



tion of the building. In this system, the bookcases occupy only one- 
half the height of each room, which is usually fifteen feet; the upper 
part of the walls being pierced with a series of wide windows which 
diffuse light throughout the interior. Further, each department is 
provided with ample space for the convenient pursuit of study; while 
the staircase and the elevator, to the advantage of the student, are 
deprived of the importance which they occupy in libraries arranged 
according to the stack system. 

But to repeat for emphasis a statement already made: the Poole 
method of arrangement, while it avoids the principal defects of the 
opposing stack system — which yet are by no means capital ones — has 
not yet demonstrated that the greater space demanded for its work- 
ings, together with certain other requisites, are disadvantages which 
are absorbed and inappreciable in the general excellence of the plan. 

It is thus evident that the question of stack or department is of in- 
tense interest to architects, to librarians, and to the public, and one 
which can be argued from both sides with an ardor approaching bit- 
terness. From either point of view, it is useless to urge a war upon 
paper, since the issue will be decided upon the battlefield of actual 
experiment. Following then the principle that "when doctors disa- 
gree, desciples are free," it is well to leave the discussion to those 
whose personal or professional interests are there involved; passing on 
to gain further knowledge from the testimony of experts in library 
construction. One such authority directly counsels that this type of 
building be planned from within outward ; all considerations remain- 
ing subservient to those of storage, service, and accommodation of 
readers, and no exterior feature to receive attention from the archi- 
tect, until ample provision shall have been made by him for the ad- 
ministration and growth of the collections. 

This counsel would seem to receive the approval of the majority 
of competent judges, including that of the best American critic of 
architecture, Mr. Russell Sturgis, who presumably following the 
same line of thought, says that "as yet no special characteristic of a 
library exterior can be said to exist." In support of his statement, 
Mr. Sturgis compares the facade of the Library of Sainte Genevieve, 
Paris, with that of the Boston Public Library; emphasizing the fact 
that the similarity of exterior treatment does not imply a correspond- 
ence of internal arrangement in the two buildings, and drawing 



thence the conclusion that there is no typical and expressive library 


To another authority the positiveness of the first critic appears 
scarcely justified. He would wish to modify it, and, in so doing, he 
would recognize certain interior library features as reflected in the 
facade, and the latter consequently as characteristic of a sole type of 
building. Among other valuable comments and explanations, he 
notes that "there may be important differences in the arrangement of 
the large reading-rooms referred to by Mr. Sturgis, but in all these 
cases there is a general resemblance in the fact that the second floor 
(or certainly the portion lighted by the windows in the fagade) is 
given almost exclusively to a large reading-room. The arcaded treat- 
ment of the fagade seems to express this very clearly, and the lower 
story, with its stronger walls and smaller window openings, is an 
equally logical expression of the purpose of the interior, given up to 
working rooms which naturally require less light, and are of less im- 
portance in the general scheme of the building." 

By means of this luminous comment we are made to understand 
the meaning of many facades long familiar to us, but whose meaning 
we have, until now, misapprehended. An upper series of high, wide 
windows in a long, low facade invariably announces a place of study, 
whether it be a museum of art, or a spacious hall devoted to literary or 
scientific research; as we may find by simply consulting our own 
memories; beginning with buildings like the Uffizi Palace, at Flor- 
ence, and ending with certain Parisian designs, like the facade of the 
Sainte Genevieve Library, that of the Ecole des Beaux Arts, and that 
of the Ecole de Medecine, the latter being one of the finest examples 
of recent French art. 

Then, fortified by these proofs in stone, can we not believe that 
the library, strictly speaking, has a pronounced architectural physi- 
ognomy? Not, of course, when it assumes something of the palatial 
type, as in the case of the Library of Congress at Washington, or when 
it becomes composite and departmental, like the Newberry Library, 
at Chicago. But if it enter the class typified in the great institution 
of Boston, can we not instantly recognize its purpose in its fagade, and 
assert that a distinctive library exterior has already been created, ne- 
cessitated by internal requisites, and announcing that these have been 
successfully fulfilled? 



ONCERNING taste an endless argument may be estab- 
lished, and art is infinite in its manifestations. There 
is a diversity among the gifts of perception, and not all 
persons who are equally endowed and subjected to the 
same training, are sensitive to the same combinations of 
line and color. Judgment is always, as it were, re- 
fracted by temperament. The image of the thing presented to the 
eye acquires along its passage to the brain the individuality of the 
observer. These dififerences in taste, certainly accentuated by meth- 
ods of education and surroundings, have undiscoverable sources, and 
are as strong in childhood as in mature life, although in the first of 
these periods they are less logical. So it becomes necessary to those 
who would brighten the lives and develop the imagination of chil- 
dren by furthering art in the home and in the school, to respect these 
dififerences of taste, or rather of temperament; offering to their 
charges a wide diversity of subject and treatment, under the sole re- 
strictions that the theme presented be simple, and the treatment tech- 
nically good. Age, racial instincts, sectional influences and heredi- 
tary culture must be recognized as factors in the problem of presenta- 
tion. The sharp outlines, the distinction, the rhythmic composition, 
the humor at times verging upon grimness of Boutet de Monvel — all 
these qualities which form a whole of great simplicity in the work of 
that artist, make instantaneous appeal to such children only as possess 
a developed art-sense; while the younger, the slower in perception, 
the less subtile in intellect, must be offered a more detailed rendering: 
as it were, less of a reduced art-formula from which everything super- 



fluous has been eliminated, and nothing but the principle remains to 
attract, as a foundation upon which to build with suggestion and 

But the more detailed rendering has an educative function which 
is not to be despised. It plays the part of a preparatory study, just 
as, according to the testimony of librarians, the lighter and lower 
forms of fiction prepare the mind of the average reader for the enjoy- 
ment of the "problem play" and the psychological novel, which, in 
turn, generate interest in history, sociology and philosophy. 

Among the best examples of this preparatory type of art fitted to 
the mural decoration of the nursery and the school-room, the work of 
Kate Greenaway, better known to the young men and women, than 
to the children of to-day, takes first rank. During the eighties and 
nineties of the nineteenth century, the name of this Englishwoman 
was a word to conjure with in the households of her own country, as 
well as in those of France, Germany and America. Devoting her- 
self solely to the production of child-types, she acquired in early 
youth a reputation which, although based upon somewhat limited 
knowledge and accomplishments, yet placed her, in a restricted sense, 
beside Walter Crane, Caldecott, and Boutet de Monvel, with whom 
— the same reservations being preserved — she does not cease to be 
classed. Technically she was not strong, but yet she influenced 
deeply the decorative art of her time, owing to her fresh, individual 
treatment of old themes, her color qualities, and certain felicities. of 
line recalling the fifteenth century Italians. She thus became, in a 
limited sense, the founder of a school, drawing its adherents from all 
the principal artistic countries of the world, and recognized in France 
under the name of Greenavisme. Her work so distinguished her 
among the English artists of her period that she was made the subject 
of an extended eulogy from Ruskin in one of his Oxford lectures; re- 
ceiving from the gifted but erratic critic a more tempered, consistent 
and valuable judgment than was wont to be formulated by him in his 
almost frenzied enthusiasms. Foreign authorities also recognized 
her genius, which, although stamped with national character, had no 
insular narrowness. From opposite sources she won equal praise: 
Ernest Chesneau devoting a considerable space and much discrimi- 
nating sympathy to a review of her work in his treatise, "La peinture 
anglaise contemporaine," while the same is true of Richard Miither 


in his exhaustive review of modern painting. Her friendly critics, 
headed by the three distinguished men just mentioned, all acknowl- 
edge her originality; some of the less judicious of them asserting that 
"she borrowed nothing of other nations," and attributing her indi- 
vidual style to the fact that she was never out of England. But the 
latter statements would best be modified by saying that the originality 
of the artist resided in a point of view; that it was an attainment 
reached by careful, tasteful selection and combination from the leg- 
acies of a past not too remote to be popularly appreciated and en- 
joyed. Miss Greenaway was a devoted student of Sir Joshua, and, 
like that famous artist, she was enamored of the lighter, more grace- 
ful phases of classic Italian art. In showing this tendency she 
proved her personal preferences, while she preserved the traditions 
of her people; since English poets from the time of Chaucer, and 


English painters from Reynolds onward, with never failing recur- 
rence, have sought their inspiration in Italy, to the neglect of the 
nearer, Latin country, France. 

Beside this feeling so marked in the dancing figures, the proces- 
sions, and the groups drawn by Miss Greenaway, the artist's selective 
ability displayed itself in her costuming, which constitutes her chief 
claim to lasting distinction. This feature of her work was based upon 
the late Georgian and Directoire styles of dress, which she adapted 
with exquisite sense to the proportions of her small models; not only 
designing, but making the costumes with her own hands, and so thor- 
oughly acquainting herself with outline, color and texture, that her 
picture-folk seem to be really clothed, instead of presenting mere 
conventions of face, flowers and feathers. 

This thorough method pursued with persistence, was, no doubt, 
a large factor in her ultimate success, which was brilliant, whether 



considered in its direct, or its indirect results. The small character- 
istic figures with which she peopled four of her most popular chil- 
dren's books, brought her the means with which to build an artistic 
home and an ample studio; while her costumes, passing from the 
printed page to the realities of the shop and the street, grew to be one 
of the few delights of the too colorless, monotonous London land- 
scape. The quaint little gowns, coats, hats and muffs, investing their 
wearers with an old-time portrait air, became as familiar in the Bois 
de Boulogne and in Central Park, as in the West End, until a single 
gentle hand was said to dress the children of two continents. 

Beside her fresh, original treatment of figure and of costume. Miss 
Greenaway, to a lesser degree, distinguished herself in the use of spe- 
cial flowers as accessories. Certain of her contemporaries in art 
chose to represent the sunflower with its "sad-colored center," and 
the white day-lily, which in their hands never bloomed in its open- 
air radiance. These flowers, thus elevated as objects of the "aesthetic 
cult," became also the subjects of ridicule and caricature, as we find 
them to be in the opera of Patience, that masterpiece of delicate 
satire. But the flower selected for treatment by Miss Greenaway 
escaped the witticisms of the critics, while it grew in the favor of the 
public, as was easily inferred from the window-gardens and the 
florists' displays of the period. The woman artist's choice fell upon 
the dafTodil, whose conformation, translucent petals, and softly 
graded color-scale offered a combination making strong appeal to 
her feminine sense of beauty. This blossom she repeated throughout 
her books, with infinite \ariety; posing it with a grace all her own, 
and spreading its ruffled frock, so that it seemed to acquire a per- 
sonality as distinct as that of her child-figures. Other minor flowers 
bloomed profusely in her landscapes, starring the greensward after 
the manner of the Italian Pre-Raphaelites, at other times woven into 
garlands suggestive of Botticelli, or, again, combined into bouquets 
elaborately built up from harmonies and contrasts like those of the 
patient Dutch painters. Therefore, to say that Miss Greenaway 
drew nothing from foreign sources is to misjudge her intelligence, 
her selective powers, and the peculiar quality of her genius, which 
was compounded of sympathy and of "infinite pains." Nor did the 
lack of the artistic experience which comes from travel, greatly 
hinder her development, since the National Gallery offered a suffi- 



cient number of originals by which to form her judgment, and the 
same institution, during her study-period, owing to a rational arrange- 
ment not then generally prevailing in European museums, afforded 
one of the very few advantageous places in the world in which to ex- 
amine the pictures of the old masters. 

The work of Miss Greenaway, already seen through the per- 
spective of the past, appears to the newest generation much dimin- 
ished in importance, but in order that justice be done, she must be 
regarded as an epoch-maker. It is ungrateful to forget her artistic 
services to the English people. Contemporary with the so-called 
aesthetes, she attracted no share of the ridicule so lavishly expended 
upon the leaders of that body; but having thus escaped censure during 
her life, she does not deserve to be forgotten after her death. Her 
memory should be preserved together with that of Rossetti, Burne- 


Jones and Morris; for she labored quite as efifectively as they to re- 
move ugliness from the dwelling and the street: the two principal ma- 
terial factors in the pleasure or the discomfort of every-day life. 
Alone she produced the revolution which permanently, it would 
seem, substituted beauty and grace for ugliness and stiffness in the cos- 
tumes of children; since, from her time onward, in this branch of 
art, there has been development, but no reaction. Together with 
William Morris she accomplished immeasurably good results in the 
furtherance of household art; for if the great craftsman "changed the 
look of half the houses in London," the woman artist is said, with 
equal truth, to have "refurnished England." Together with Walter 
Crane she wrought miracles in the picture-books of English-speaking 
children : eliminating the coarse outline and the still cruder color for 
a system of illustration which is both satisfying to the artist and educa- 
tive for the child. In this field of work she was a pioneer, and al- 



though other decorators have advanced beyond her results, she should 
still to-day be honored for her accomplishments which were solid, as 
well as for her initiative, since, as the French have happily expressed 
it, it is the first step that counts. It should also be remembered that 
in the days of Miss Greenaway's activity, the processes of mechanical 
reproduction were far less perfect than at present, and that much of 
the beauty and artistic value of her work was lost in transference to 
the printed page. Furthermore, book illustration, in this sense, was 
yet a new art, and ideas regarding it were undeveloped ; so that much 
which then was artistic innovation, has now lapsed into the expected 
and familiar, or even into the obsolete. 

In this connection it is interesting to recall a passage from Rus- 
kin's extended criticism of the artist, which occurs in the Slade lecture 
to which allusion has been already made. The words written so 
many years ago, still retain their force, and if we examine the earlier 
work of Miss Greenaway, we shall feel the same regrets which the 
contemporary of the artist so tersely expressed when he said: 

"Her design has been greatly restricted by being too ornamental, 
or in modern phrase, decorative, contracted into the corner of a 
Christmas card, or stretched like an elastic band round the edges of 
an almanac. . . . No end of mischief has been done to modern art 
by the habit of running semi-pictorial illustration round the margins 
of ornamental volumes, and Miss Greenaway has been wasting her 
strength too sorrowfully in making the edges of her little birthday 
books and the like glitter with unregarded gold; whereas her power 
should be concentrated in the direct illustration of connected story, 
and her pictures should be made complete on the page, and far more 
realistic than decorative. There is no charm so enduring as that of 
the real representation of any given scene. But her present designs 
are like living flowers flattened to go into an herbarium, and some- 
times too pretty to be believed. We must ask her for more descrip- 
tive reality and more convincing simplicity." 

This criticism, the general tenor of which is so reasonable and 
just, reflects a confidence in Miss Greenaway's power as an illustrator, 
which was not subsequently justified by fact. She failed to realize 
adequately in visible form the conceptions of a writer, as may be seen 
from her work upon Browning's "Pied Piper of Hamelin" and other 
children's classics. Her ability lay in creating a small world of her 


own, whose landscape was not to be located, and whose child-popula- 
tion, always in holiday attire, appeared to be celebrating an endless 
festival in No Man's Land. 

As might have been expected, this idealism found perfect appre- 
ciation from Ruskin, as from the avowed enemy of such mechanical 
inventions and industrial enterprises as tend to defile with railways 
and chimneys the tranquil beauty of Nature. The Oxford lecturer, 
having judged the decorator of little annuals and almanacs to be a 
subject worthy of his best thought and his extended consideration. 


associated her spirit and work with all that is highest in human im- 
pulse and aspiration, when, in closing his address, he declared: 

"Neither sound art, policy, nor religion can exist in England, 
until neglecting, if it must be, your own pleasure gardens and pleasure 
chambers, you resolve that the streets which are the habitations of the 
poor, and the fields which are the playgrounds of their children, shall 
be again restored to the rule of the spirits, whosoever they are on earth 
and in heaven, that ordain and reward, with constant and conscious 
felicity, all that is decent and orderly, beautiful and pure." 

Poetic as this rhapsody superficially appears, it contains a strong 
element of practical sense, in common with many other utterances of 




the same author, which, at the time they were made, passed as the 
words of one whom enthusiasm for a generous cause, and indignation 
at existing wrongs had bereft of reason. 

But the years have done much to prove the sanity of Ruskin's 
views, or rather, perceptions. Recent conclusions reached through 
the study of sociology and sanitary laws have justified him. The 
movement to ruralize the city, to urbanize the country, follows the 
path which, with vision unaided by science, he dimly recognized to 
be the right way. Of this new era, or golden age, he believed Miss 
Greenaway to be a prophet, and equally with her graceful art, he 
prized the spirit of which it was the direct and sincere expression. 
Ahvays mingling humanitarian thought with art considerations, he 
acclaimed with personal satisfaction her appearance in England, as 
a hopeful sign of the times. From his professor's chair he described 
the conditions preceding her rise in terms which give her permanent 
rank in the art-records of her country; while, at the same time, he 
threw side-lights upon the development of the modern humanitarian 
and educational movement which can not fail to interest all thought- 
ful persons. 

First noting the child-types portrayed by Ludwig Richter in Ger- 
many, and by Edouard Frere in France (characterizing the works of 
the latter as of "quite immortal beauty") , he asserted with great vigor 



that the true human feeling toward childhood was long repressed in 
England by the terrible action of wealth, which induced the artists 
of the country to represent the children of the poor as in wickedness 
or in misery. "I am not able," he continued, "to say with whom in 
Britain the reaction against this injustice began; but certainly not in 
painting until after Wilkie, in all whose works there is not a single 
example of a beautiful Scottish boy or girl. I imagine that in litera- 
ture we may take the 'Cotter's Saturday Night' and the 'toddlin' wee 
things' as the real beginning of child benediction, and I am disposed 
to assign in England much value to the widely felt, though little 
acknowledged, influence of an authoress now forgotten. I refer to 
Mary Russell Mitford. Her village children in the Lowlands and 
in the Highlands, the Lucy Gray and the Alice Fells of Wordsworth, 
brought back to us the hues of Fairy Land, and, although long by aca- 
demic art denied or resisted, at last the charm is felt in London itself: 
on pilgrimage in whose suburbs you find the Little Nells and boy 
David Copperfields, and in the heart of it Kit's baby brother, at Ast- 
ley's, indenting his cheek with an oyster-shell to the admiration of 
all beholders; till, at last, bursting out like one of the sweet Surrey 
fountains, all dazzling and pure, you have the radiance and inno- 
cence, or reinstated infant divinity showered again among the flowers 
of English meadows by Mrs. Allington and Kate Greenaway." 




MUCH time has elapsed since the delivery of the Oxford lec- 
ture, and, within the last two decades, art has taken new di- 
rections and assumed new forms. But the world, especially 
the world of children, has not yet outgrown the work of Kate Greena- 
way. Changeful Fashion can not rob her child-types of their appeal- 
ing, nay rather, compelling grace; while her technical skill, although 
not distinguished, is yet not to be despised. Furthermore, her un- 
erring taste places her above many artists of ability, whose desire for 
effect or originality is as liable to lead them astray as to conduct them 
to good results. 

By reason therefore of the safe qualities which characterize them 
certain of the designs of this pleasing artist are here offered in modi- 
fied form, as schemes for the mural decoration of the school, and of 
the nursery. 

The theme chosen is the world-old, yet always interesting, subject 
of the seasons, treated in the way best adapted to the understanding 
of the undeveloped mind: that is, not as ideal personages, as the 
Greeks were acustomed to represent phases of Nature; nor yet under 
the too abstract form of pure landscape ; but typified by groups of fig- 
ures, set in quasi-natural surroundings, and supposedly pursuing occu- 
pations appropriate to a special period. 

The mural pictures may be executed in either oil or water-colors, 
or they may be transferred to the walls by stencil-patterns; w-hile the 
screens and portieres are to be wrought in applique, in combination 
with stenciling. In the choice of color schemes. Miss Greenaway's 
system, as formulated in her published books, should be followed, 
with the added precaution of softening all tonal qualities; since it 
must be remembered that her values were altered, and her effects in- 
jured by the mechanical processes of printing. Furthermore, in the 
school frieze typical of winter, it is w^ell to offer a light gray fore- 
ground, which, in combination with the blue sky and the bright col- 
ors clothing the figures, will represent snow, without use of the bril- 
liant white so trying to the vision. 

TAKEN as a whole, these friezes and figures can not fail to exert 
an educative influence upon the children to whom they may 
be given as picture-books: durable in substance, always open, 
and needing no repeated explanations. They are further capable of 



pleasing the eyes of older and more experienced persons, for if stud- 
ied, they will be found to contain two agreeable artistic elements 
joined skilfully and harmoniously. In many of them the English 
quality predominates: notably, in the pictures of the harvesters, the 
game of snow-ball, the spring processional, and the woods in winter. 
But in others the feeling is fifteenth century Italian. In the framed 
picture of Autumn, containing the figures projected against the ar- 
cade, in the frieze of dancing figures unified by the rose-garland, in 
the autumn gathering of fruits, there is plainly visible the reflected 
spirit of those masters who vivified and diversified the art of painting, 
before the imitation of Raphael came to sterilize individual effort 
and genius. 

A HURRYING generation quickly forgets its benefactors. For 
Miss Greenaway, as yet unhonored in her native London by 
tomb or tablet, remembrance should be instituted in schools 
or nurseries wherever situated, in behalf of the children of the world 
upon whom she expended so lavishly her warm affection and her 
graceful talents. 




N the evening before he sailed for France I had the good 
fortune to listen to a lecture by Charles Wagner of 
Simple Life fame, — the only lecture which he delivered 
in his native French tongue in this country, — and I was 
impressed from his first appearance upon the stage by 
his resemblance to the late Mayor Jones of Toledo, 
Ohio. A larger, taller, heavier man, the Frenchman was in feature, 
build and coloring very like the American, and when he spoke, at 
home once again in his own language and before an audience of his 
compatriots, there was the same frankness and earnestness, the same 
friendly relation with his hearers, the same effect of thinking aloud, 
which I had so often noted in Mayor Jones, and, finally, when he said, 
"I have always continued to be something of a peasant" (Je suis ton- 
jours reste un pen paysan"), I could almost fancy that it was the 
Mayor who was talking. I understood then for the first time the 
secret of M. Wagner's influence. His message, too, was not alto- 
gether dissimilar from that of Mayor Jones. Both of them preached 
the simple life as they respectively saw it, but here the resemblance 
•ends, for while the Simple Life of Wagner means a gentle smoothing 
and retouching of things as they are, that of Mayor Jones involves 
little less than a revolution. M. Wagner does not insist upon any pro- 
found change in the externals of life, while Mayor Jones never felt 
comfortable in what seemed to him the unbrotherly relations involved 
in our existing social system. Nothing less than a new world, the full 
flower of love to neighbor carried to its logical limit, could satisfy 

It was in Chicago in the winter of 1895-6 that I made the acquaint- 
ance of Samuel Milton Jones. We had both been invited to some 
kind of a conference and were entertained at one of the "settlements" 
of the city. His fame had not reached me at that time, for he had not 
yet entered politics and the reports of his strange doings in the field of 
business had not traveled as far as New York, but I was attracted at 
once by the open and childlike way in which he expressed his extreme 
democratic views to everyone. There was in the house in which we 
stayed, a crippled man of unprepossessing appearance who looked 
after the furnace and did other odd jobs in the cellar. He was, if I 



am not mistaken, a reclaimed tramp, one of the fruits of the good work 
of the residents. It was not long before Jones had discovered him 
and they were soon old friends. By a certain instinct he carried his 
brotherly feeling where it was most needed and where it would be 
most valued. And I remarked then, as I often did afterward, that 
Jones, while frequently engrossed in his own experiences and in the 
problems arising from them, even to the exclusion of external sugges- 
tions, was, notwithstanding, entirely free from conceit and acted with- 
out the slightest reference to appearances or to the opinion of the gal- 
lery. He followed out his own impulses as simply as a child. 

I was naturally curious about this interesting man, and I heard 
some stories at this time which I have never forgotten. But perhaps 
before I tell them it would be best to give a brief outline of his life. 
He was born on August 3, 1846, in a laborer's stone cottage in the vil- 
lage of Bedd Gelert, North Wales. When he was three years old his 
parents emigrated to America with their family, taking up a collec- 
tion first among their friends to raise the necessary fare. They made 
the voyage in the steerage of a sailing vessel, and from New York they 
went by canal-boat up the Hudson and the Erie Canal to Utica and 
thence by wagon into Lewis County, New York, where his father 
found familiar work in the stone quarries, and still later became a 
tenant-farmer. Sam went to the village school, and thirty months' 
attendance there constituted his entire formal education. He had a 
great dislike for farm work, but he was obliged to take part in it as a 
lad. At ten years of age he worked for a farmer who routed him out 
of bed at four o'clock in the morning, and his day's work did not 
end till sundown, for all of which he received three dollars a month. 
At fourteen he was employed in a sawmill and his natural taste for 
mechanical work began to show itself. He had been considered lazy 
on the farm, but he assures us that he never had a lazy hair in his head, 
and he makes his own case the text for a sermon on the importance of 
finding congenial work for boys and men. From the sawmill he 
passed on to the post of "wiper and greaser" in the engine-room of a 
steamboat on the Black River and learned a good deal about the man- 
agement of engines. An engineer advised him to go to the oil regions 
of Pennsylvania, and soon after he arrived alone at Titusville, the 
center of that district, with fifteen cents in his pocket. For a short 
time he knew what it was to search for work and not find it, and all 



the rest of his life he felt the deepest sympathy with men in that sad 
condition. He had the greatest confidence in himself, however, and, 
as he often pointed out, it was much easier to get work then and there 
than it is now anywhere. On arriving he had registered in a good 
hotel, trusting to luck to earn money to pay his bill, and in a short time 
the bill was paid. He wrote a letter home to his mother, but did not 
have a cent to buy a stamp with. Seeing a gentleman on the way to 
the postoffice, he asked him to post his letter, and then pretended to 
examine his pockets for the necessary three cents, whereupon the man 
offered to pay for it himself, which was just what young Jones had 
hoped he would do. Afterward Jones condemned this deception of 
his, and cited it as proof of the evil effect of conditions which deny 
the right of work to anyone. During his weary tramp in quest of a 
place one employer whom he accosted spoke kindly to him and en- 
couraged him, giving him a letter to a friend of his who had oil wells 
twelve miles away. These kind words Jones never forgot and he al- 
ways had at least a friendly smile for the "man out of a job" as a 
consequence of them. At last he found work and remunerative work, 
too, in managing an engine which pumped the oil from a well. He 
liked the work and advanced quickly, till, with occasional periods of 
hard times, and after doing all kinds of work connected with boring 
for oil, he saved a few hundred dollars and started digging for him- 
self, and became an employer. In 1875 he married and after a very 
happy married life of ten years his wife died, as did also his little 
daughter. These blows were almost too great for Jones's strength, 
and he followed the advice of his friends and removed with his two 
boys to the oil-regions of Ohio, in order to divert his mind by change 
of scene. Here he was very successful, as these oil fields were just 
opened and developed very rapidly. "I have simply taken advan- 
tage," he says, "of opportunities offered by an unfair social system and 
gained what the world calls success." 

In 1892 Jones married again, and about the same time he invented 
several improvements in oil-well appliances which he offered to the 
"trust," but they refused to touch them. His experience is evidence 
of the fact that our "trust" system does not encourage invention, being 
often satisfied to let well enough alone, the managers sometimes buy- 
ing up patents for the express purpose of suppressing them, and of 
thus saving the money already expended in old-fashioned plants. 



Jones was sure that his inventions were valuable, and hence he 
founded the "Acme Sucker-Rod Company" and began manufactur- 
ing at Toledo on his own account, and made that city his home. He 
had never lived in a city before, and Toledo, with its 150,000 inhabit- 
ants, proved to be a new world to him. City life was very different 
from the life he had hitherto known. In the oil-fields society was 
simple and there was no great gulf between employer and employee, 
but in town it was altogether different. In the factories which he 
visited the men were mere "hands," and were not considered as human 
beings, and in each shop there was a long list of precise rules posted, 
invariably ending with the warning that immediate discharge would 
follow any infraction of them. This made Jones's blood boil and he 
determined to manage things otherwise in his factory. The idea 
occurred to him to put up the Golden Rule instead of a placard of 
regulations, but he fought against it in his mind, knowing that it 
might seem peculiar and that it would be misunderstood, but the 
thought took possession of him and finally up it went, "Whatsoever 
ye will that men should do to you, do ye even so to them," or, as he 
was wont to translate it in conversation, "Do unto others as if you were 
the others." 

When, on opening his shop, he sat down with his foreman to make 
out the pay-roll, the latter took from his pocket a statement of the 
wages paid by other companies. "Put that away," cried Jones. 
"What has that got to do with it? What can we afford to pay?" 
And the result of this novel plan was that he always paid the highest 
wages for the shortest hours of any employer in Toledo. One of those 
kindly critics who invariably find fault with honest efforts to do good 
blamed him once for paying high wages when so many men were out 
of employment. 

"You might employ twice as many if you cut down their wages 
one-half," he said. 

"If there is to be any cutting down," was the answer, "it seems to 
me it ought to come out of my share, and not from men who are get- 
ting much less than I am." 

Once when he was visiting the factory of a neighbor the latter said 
to him: "See here, Jones, here is a case that troubles me. How 
would you treat it according to your new ideas? I have a man here 
who has spoiled three sets of castings in a week and that means a loss 
of so much. What would you do with him?" ^^^ 


"The first thing I would do," Jones replied, "would be to imagine 
myself in his place. How long have you employed him?" 

"Two years, isn't it?" answered the proprietor, turning to his 

"Yes, sir, two years and three months." 

"Has he ever spoiled a casting before," asked Jones. 


"How much vacation has he had since he came?" 

"Look at the books and see," said the employer to the clerk. 

"Let me see," answered the latter, taking down a blank-book and 
turning over the pages, "two, three, — just five days in all." 

"Why, I understand it very well," said Jones with a smile. "His 
nerves have got out of order with continual wear and tear. If I were 
you I would give him a fortnight's vacation!" And in his own shop 
each employee had a week's holiday each summer with full pay, an 
unheard-of luxury until he introduced it. 

On one occasion one of Jones's workmen got drunk and injured a 
horse belonging to the company by driving it into a telegraph pole. 
The next day the foreman came into the office and said, "Of course 
Brown must be discharged to-day." 

"Why?" asked Jones. "He was dead drunk, wasn't he, with no 
more sense than a stick or a stone? Now, suppose we could take a 
stick or a stone and make a good citizen for the State of Ohio out of it, 
don't you think it would be even better than making sucker- rods? 
Send Brown to me when he comes in." And when at last Brown 
came, shame-faced and repentant, into the private office, Jones said 
nothing, but took down his testament from the shelf and read the story 
of the woman who was accused before Jesus, ending with the words, 
"Neither do I condemn thee ; go and sin no more." And that was all 
the reproof the man received. He was often blamed for keeping in- 
temperate men in his employ, but his object was to reclaim them. "It 
would be an easy matter to 'fire out' every drinking man in the shop 
and fill their places with sober men," he says. "That would be easy. 
Any 'good business man' could do that. But to make conditions in 
and about a shop that will make life so attractive and beautiful to 
men as to lead them to live beautiful lives for their own sake and for 
the sake of the world about them, this is a task calling for qualifica- 
tions not usually required of the 'successful business manager.' " 











Such were the anecdotes which I heard with regard to Jones when 
I first met him at Chicago. And the strange thing was that his busi- 
ness methods were completely successful. He turned the vacant land 
next to his factory, — space which was sorely needed for his increas- 
ing business, — into a park and playground and named it Golden Rule 
Park. He established an eight-hour day, although none of his com- 
petitors followed his example, and yet his business and his income 
grew. "If I don't look out," he said to me once, "I'll become a mil- 
lionaire, and what should I do with a million? It's a curious fact 
that while I never thought of such a thing, this Golden Rule business 
has helped the company. People give me four hundred dollars for 
engines which they won't pay over three hundred and fifty dollars for 
to other manufacturers. I don't understand it at all." I was pres- 
ent once at his office in Toledo while he and two of his managers were 
discussing what to do with a recalcitrant debtor. They had delivered 
a machine to this man a year before, and, although he was amply able 
to pay, he had never sent the money. The two men were trying to 
persuade Jones to bring suit against him, but he would not look at the 
case in that light. He did not like the idea of going to law, and would 
only promise to think it over. One thing which troubled him was 
the handsome house in which he lived and which he had built or 
bought before his democratic nature had fully matured. The "set- 
tlement" idea impressed him at Chicago. "If I had only known of 
this before," he said, "I would have built my house down among the 
homes of our workmen." He felt like an exile in the fashionable 
quarter of Toledo, and he made it a point to take his midday meal 
with the men in "Golden Rule Hall," over the factory, where he 
organized a common dining-room for them at cost. 

Jones actually loved his fellow-men, not in theory only, but by 
instinct, and it is interesting to watch a man who acts upon such un- 
usual principles, for you are always wondering what he will do next. 
What would a lover of his kind do under such and such circum- 
stances? It is as interesting as a chess problem, "white to move and 
check in three moves." He dropped in upon a cooperative restau- 
rant once in New York and found the young men and women em- 
ployed there with tvvo or three hours of leisure on their hands. He 
solved the problem on the spot by taking all hands of? to a baseball 
match, and a merry and unconventional party they must have been. 



In his "Autobiography," which forms an introduction to his book, 
"The New Right," published in 1899, Jones gives us his first impres- 
sions of business life in Toledo. "I think," he says, "the first real 
shock to my social consciousness came when the swarms of men 
swooped down upon us begging for work, soon after signs of life be- 
gan to manifest themselves around the abandoned factory which we 
rented for our new enterprise. I never had seen anything like it; 
their piteous appeals and the very pathos of the looks of many of them 
stirred the deepest sentiments of compassion within me. I felt keenly 
the degradation and shame of the situation; without knowing why or 
how, I began to ask myself why I had a right to be comfortable and 
happy in a world in which other men, by nature quite as good as I, 
and willing to work, willing to give their service to society, were de- 
nied the right even to the meanest kind of existence. ... I soon dis- 
covered that I was making the acquaintance of a new kind of man. 
Always a believer in the equality of the Declaration of Independence, 
I now, for the first time, came into contact with workingmen who 
seemed to have a sense of social inferiority, wholly incapable of any 
conception of equality, and this feeling I believed it was my duty to 
destroy. Without any organized plan, and hardly knowing what I 
was doing, I determined that this groveling conception must be over- 
come ; so we began to take steps to break down this feeling of class 
distinction and social inequality." He arranged for an occasional 
picnic or excursion, to which the men came with their families, and 
he invited them to his fine house at receptions to which his wealthier 
friends were also bidden. 

It was these experiments of Jones's which attracted public atten- 
tion in Toledo to him. In the spring of 1897 ^ convention of the 
Republican party in that city was held to select a candidate for mayor, 
and it so happened tha